Monuments & the Memories They Bring
It was fifteen years to the day and neither of them was willingly to allow it to pass completely unmarked.
The weather forecast still promised more rain and the threat hung heavy in the damp air; it hadn't stopped the two people, bundled up in scarves and coats and walking arm in arm, from making their way down the deserted cemetery path.
Remnants of the previous nights storm was still evident from the way that the ground squelched underneath their feet as they stepped off the path at the third row of stones. There were hundreds of monuments to people from the past surrounding them, presenting an unwitting maze, but their slow amble held a subtle sense of purpose.
The woman, slightly shorter than the male, was pulling her companion back with her as though she was dreading seeing the stone again, after so long. But it was, as she'd constantly reminded herself when she'd been plucking up the courage to visit such a place, fifteen years to the day and neither of them was willing to allow it to pass completely unmarked.
They stopped before a black marble stone and as he expertly sensed her unease the male extracted his arm from hers so that he could squeeze her shoulders.
She bent down suddenly, hiding her face from his view to fiddle meaninglessly with the bedraggled roses that served as the pitiful decoration on the otherwise majestic stone. When she eventually straightened up again her eyes were moist.
"Harry." The sigh of a name caused him, who had been purposely looking anywhere but the stone, to turn. Instinctively he pulled Ruth into a hug. His chin rested gently on her head and they both inhaled each others familiar scent to help calm their emotions.
"What would I do without you?" Ruth touched his hand with a feather light finger. The rhetorical question was spoken quietly as she remembered how, despite him not knowing a thing about it, he'd helped her through that first hardest year. "I'm sorry," she murmured, to him this time, "I should be holding you, not the other way around."
He surveyed the grave sadly over her head. "It's okay Mum. I'm a big boy now." His words projected an assurance that he didn't even know he had. He gave a wry smile at the stone. "And I'm sure you'd manage fine without me."
Ruth pulled away from her son and watched him silently. He was reading and re-reading the words etched into the marble, wishing desperately that they could offer him the such sought after feeling of knowing his father.
You're more than him than you'll ever realise. She knew that had she spoken the words aloud he would have scoffed and ignored her so instead she repeated the words in her head. The similarities, despite them never meeting, were irrevocable. It was fitting that they shared the same name.
"C'mon." Her voice tore his gaze away and he followed her willingly. He couldn't help looking back one last time before they rejoined the path.
HARRY PEARCE
14.2.53 – 19.3.09
Such as we are made of, such we be.
Can I just point out the box at the bottom of this page ... it only takes a second :)