Forget Me Not
I stood there at your funeral, gazing at your tombstone, reading the words carved on it over and over again. I could hear whispers from those that attended, those that you loved so dearly in your life. I could hear your mother saying how quirky you were in your preschool years. I could hear your father reminiscing on threatening boys who were out there to break your heart. I could hear your friends mentioning how much you loved reading books more than anything in the world. I know, and you know it too, just how much everyone loves you. They all know you as the miss goody two shoes and the residential bookworm from when you were in school. The public recognized you as the war heroin that helped Harry Potter in defeating the Dark Lord.
I, on the other hand, will forever see you as the only woman who had changed me. I was nothing but an arrogant git, a man full of pride and obnoxious traits. No one wishes to be in my company. They only meet me because of business purposes, no more than that. You were the only one willing to be with me, voluntarily I might add. People now see me differently because of you. They see me as a loving husband and a respectable single father.
Hours passed by. People came up to me and send their condolences. Some even offered to help me in raising our new born son, our fragile and small Scorpius Malfoy. I politely declined and thanked them. I know what they think of me on their way home. "I feel sorry for him. He lost a lovely lady giving birth to their first child." I could sense their sympathy towards me from a million miles away.
It was strange. I thought that I would cry over your grave and never go back home. Well, I was wrong. Not a single shed of tear fell from my eyes. Do you know why? It is because I could feel you here with me, standing next to me. I could sense your hand ghosting over mine, as if you were trying to hold onto me. Strength fled over me, albeit it was such a small gesture. Once there was no one left, I looked to my right and there you are, looking as stunning as always. Your brown, wavy hair falling down your hips, your heart shaped face directed at me. You stare at me with those hazel colored eyes. The first genuine smile started to form on my lips.
After the funeral, I would see you everywhere. You would appear in the most precious moments. Whenever I need the strength to live, you were there to make me smile. I see you cry with tears of joy when Scorpius said his first word. I see you anxious when either one of us fell sick. I see you smile with pride when our son prefers to read colorful books rather than play video games.
There were times that I see tears on your face when he asks about his mummy. He was devastated. Everyone at school had a mummy to hug every day, but not him. You stand next to me when I try to explain that you are in a better place and we will someday meet again.
Now, as I lay in my bed with my son, his wife and their children, our grandchildren, looking at me with unshed tears, I see you standing there at the door, gazing at me. You look the same throughout all these years. I unfortunately did not. Laying here with grey hair and blurry eyes, I never thought I was able to live this long. My son and his family knew that I had been waiting for this day, the moment that I finally get to hold your hand and follow you to wherever we must go. My eyes start to droop and I see you coming closer to me, reaching your hand for me. As I took my last breath, I hear your voice, the sweet voice that my ears had not heard for a very long time. "I missed you."