Prologue
Play List:
Sissy's Song by Alan Jackson
Isabella Swan walked with her two best friends towards the grave site. She could barely see with the tears that were running down her face relentlessly. She leaned on them as they stopped next to the coffin where everyone had gathered.
Her friends had led her to where her father was standing in his black suit. Many people gathered there, but Isabella didn't see any of them. She only saw the wooden coffin in front of her. The head stone read 'Renee Swan, 1966-1998, beloved daughter, wife and, mother.' Isabella didn't see or hear anything besides what she read on the coffin. It kept running in her mind like a broken record, 'Renee Swan, 1966-1998, beloved daughter, wife, and mother.' But she didn't fight it; she didn't try to block it out. She welcomed the tears and sobs. She had wanted to sob for ages – she had tried - alone in her room at night to let all her pain and sorrow be released through tears, but they never came. So to Isabella, this was a relief. She leaned on her father's shoulder, with her friends' arms wrapped around her.
She tried listening to what the preacher said. But he didn't really know her mother, nor did half the people there. And for that, Isabella felt sorry for them. Renee was the kindest, most caring person Isabella had known. She was strong, had a sense of humor, and could flip Isabella's dad on his back. She had a love and passion for live that rubbed off on you. She was Isabella's hero.
"Bella?" Her father asked. Bella looked around to see that everyone was leaving. Her father wiped the tears from her eyes and led her closer to the coffin, already in the ground. He crouched down and ran his hands along the dirt. Bella kneeled to the ground and let another sob come out of her chest.
"We're going to miss you Renee. We love you." Charlie Swan chocked out, silent tears running down his face, as he looked at the newly tilled ground where his wife had been buried. Charlie looked at his daughter as she leaned into his side. She was the spitting image of Renee. He was worried though, for a girl to lose her mother at the age of 13 was horrible. But they would pull through, together. His daughter let out another sob, and Charlie changed his position. He sat down and pulled his Bella into his lap. They sat there and cried, and remembered. The reception forgotten, a father and a daughter grieving for their wife and mother.
"It's okay." Charlie said, though he didn't know if he was saying this to his daughter or himself. He held his daughter's head to his chest and let himself cry. His wife was the person that kept him grounded; the one that showed him sense when he didn't have any. She was his hero. She had been his hero even as she had died.
So there they sat, a father and a daughter, holding each other together, hoping that it would get better. Hoping they could live without their hero.
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I would like to dedicate this chapter to my Grandmother that passed away this last December. We love and miss you Grandma.