Well, would you look at that. I completed my entry :'D So happy! Anyway, this was written for Tsubaki-San's dare: Sub Villagers. I chose Dale (luke's dad) as my character, though I was originally going to use Barney and Mimi, but that plot was just too large for how much effort I wanted to put into this. Curse you laziness! Ahem. So, this takes place over ten years before the beginning of Animal Parade, so get that in you mindset as you read. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I own nothing relating to the copyrights of Harvest Moon.

The sky was the color of slate and a drizzly chill hung in the air one early Spring morning. Despite the fact that it was five o'clock in the morning and the weather was less-than-pleasant, a certain man was up and was making his way to the church, silence being his only companion. Not even Boss was up for a walk this early, it seemed. Though the trip to Celesta Church grounds from Garmon Mines was a lengthy one, Dale preferred it that way; it gave him time to think and prepare his mind for his weekly visit.

A fragile lavender bloom rested in his large, rough hands, and the carpenter took good care to make sure that it wasn't crushed or bruised in any way—it had to be perfect, pretty, untainted by his clumsiness when it came to things that weren't wood. It had to be just right for her, so that she would understand that he still loved her with all of his heart. Just because they were separated didn't mean he had forgotten about her—in fact, he still believed that she deserved the very best of anything he brought her; especially lavender, which had been her favorite plant. She had to realize that she was still the most important person in Dale's life, she had to…

He wiped his glistening eyes, promising himself that he wouldn't cry. He had to be strong for his wife; that's what she would want, anyways. He had to be strong for Luke, who was only a child. He had to be strong for the townspeople—breaking down wouldn't be good for his much-needed business. Dale had to stay strong altogether; he couldn't afford to do anything else. The man's clutch on the fragile plant tightened as he took a deep breath, filling his lungs with clean country air, trying to calm himself. He was just about at the graveyard, anyway.

The sky seemed a touch darker over the left side of the church, and the air, colder. The simple gravestones had a haunting feel to them, reminding Dale of all the past villagers who were sleeping there; he would probably end up at this exact place one day, too. Hopefully not soon though, seeing how his son still needed decent raising. Though sometimes… he only wished he could join his wife. Then his worries would be over. But he refused to shirk his duties, and ending his life on earth so that he could join his wife would be incredibly selfish; he wasn't willing to do that to Luke.

Dale shook the dark thoughts from his head as he approached a rough grey gravestone. Without laying down the flower, he began to speak in a shaking voice. "Y-you—" he cleared his throat, and spoke a bit stronger. "You've been gone for exactly a year now… I remember this exact day, last year, when you gave up that last breath…" his voice trailed off, but no tears came. He couldn't let himself crumble.

"Uh…" He took another deep breath, looking for something a little less sad for him to focus on. "Hah, well, yesterday… yesterday Luke almost burned down the house. He only wanted to cook stir fry, which he somehow remembered was your favorite dish… He even said 'Mommy liked this. Maybe if I make some she'll come home.'" He laughed bitterly and looked up at the sky. "I'm never letting him back into the kitchen. H-he—oh, why am I even doing this?" Dale exclaimed and put his hand to his forehead, falling to his knees. He just couldn't make light of anything at that point.

"I need you… why did you have to leave me like that? Why? I can't do this by myself! I've been managing, but lately, the boy has just been getting more reckless, and I have no time for him! Why couldn't you have just stayed a little longer?" He pounded his fist on the top of the stone, squeezing his eyes shut to keep the tears from falling. "I need you…"

The drizzle quickly turned to rain as he kneeled there, hunched over his wife's resting place; Dale didn't even notice. The only thing he was conscious of was the throbbing in his head, the terrible pain ripping his heart out—but he couldn't cry. He couldn't. He needed to stay strong, he needed to…

A single tear rolled down his cheek, and fell into his hand. The large man opened his eyes blearily, and stared at the drop—whether it was actually a drop of rain, he didn't really care.

My love…

His head shot up. It was a barely unnoticeable voice, softer than a light wind, but he was sure that he had heard it. Dale looked frantically around for the figure of his wife, maybe standing next to the gravestone or even behind him, but no one was there.

Dale…

There it was again. His heart froze in his chest as the voice continued speaking.

You know I had to go, it was my time.

He wasn't sure if he was imagining the voice or if it was really there, or if it was even a dream, but he responded. "B-but… you know I can't manage! We need a woman in the house, and without you… everything will just fall apart eventually… Please, come back. I-I… I still love you with all of my soul! I'll never forget you! Please just… just don't leave me… again…"

The ghostly voice didn't respond immediately, but it almost seemed like it was waiting for him to continue.

"I… please, just tell me why you had to go!"

I already told you, Dale. And now… you must move on. I am never coming back, and you know it.

With those words—that incredibly true phrase—the carpenter couldn't contain himself any longer. A sob left his throat, and the tears poured down as he rested his head on the rough stone. If only he could see her face one last time… Dale looked up, tears blurring his vision, expecting her to be standing there this time, smiling down at him, comforting words on her lips. Again, no one was there. A light wind swept past his cheek, almost if she were bending down to touch his face, telling him everything would be all right. As it passed, he reached out his hand to grab hers, but only ended up clutching air.

If only he could have seen the form of a lovely immortal lady standing behind the pitiful grave, then he would understand. If only his hand wouldn't have gone through hers, if only he could take a grasp of the spirit whose heart was being tormented by the absolute misery of one of her people, then he would know why she was doing this—casting the voice of his deceased wife, trying to help the poor man out of his despair. It was her job, after all; to look after those who lived in her land. She realized that if Dale wasn't able to get over this issue now… he probably never would.

For the first time in minutes, the goddess spoke again.

It is perfectly all right for you to weep… I know you fear becoming weak because of it; but you won't. If you keep my memory with you, I will keep you strong.

She put her hands on his cheeks, and ever so gently wiped away his tears with her thumbs, and for a moment, she made herself apparent to him in the form of shade.

Dale's eyes widened. "Is… is it really you?" He reached his hand out to the foggy image of his wife, which looked like a faded picture, almost ready to crumble.

The goddess nodded, though it hurt her to fool the man into believing she was someone other than her true form. A sparkling tear fell from her eye as the man looked at her, completely awestricken. She slowly retreated back to a full standing position.

"P-please don't go!" Dale exclaimed. "At least let me have one last look at you, before you leave me again."

She stood there motionless, a sad smile playing on her lips as the man pleaded with his eyes for her to never go.

You have my blessing to live on with life normally; as long as you remember the love you once had for me… you will remain strong and unmoving. I love you, Dale, never forget that…

Those were the last words of the goddess before she swirled into mist and was carried away from mortal sight by the wind.

Though his heart was heavy with grief, the only water to be wiped from Dale's face was from the heavy rain. He lowered his outstretched hand and glanced back down at the lavender that he had dropped. The widower reached down and propped it against the stone, positioning it in a way that the water wouldn't wash it away. He got up shakily, and taking one more long look at where the lovely lady had been, he steadily walked back to his home.

For the many, many years following, Dale visited his wife, but never once did "she" appear to him like she had that one time, nor did he ever find out that it was actually the Harvest goddess herself who had visited. But one thing did change in his life—he found the strength to move on every day, while yet looking back to when his family was complete, he didn't give up on himself again.

A/N: Sooooo... Like? Dislike? Reviews are always appreciated! Also, if you haven't checked out swingdancer23's Dares Forum, I demand that you do it RIGHT NOW. It needs more activityyyyy!

Thanks for reading this shabby excuse for an entry!