A Thousand Snowflakes
Dedicated to my best friend Lina
In the dark December night snow was slowly and silently falling from the sky, creating a thin layer on the street. Snowflakes like ice crystals rested on the shoulders of his coat and lay in the curls of his chocolate brown hair. It was cold and every time he took a step, his boots would cause a creak in the snow. That was the only sound; it was as if the snow erased the outside world, only allowing Seth to make any noise as he walked down the street.
He was on his way home. Even though this wasn't how he'd imagined his favourite time of the year to be, none of that seemed to matter. It didn't seem to matter that he hadn't been there to help decorating the house, or that he hadn't been out Christmas shopping and sung carols while wrapping his carefully chosen gifts. It didn't seem to matter anymore. Ever since Lina had died nothing seemed to matter.
Seth knew that things would never be the same; he knew that he'd never be able to smile for real again. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair that God had to take something so innocent and full of life, something so precious and someone so loved. Every morning he would hear the sound of her footsteps down the stairs; he would have the refrigerator door open a little longer than usual and wait for her to ask him to make her his chocolate milk. He would stand outside of her room ready to tell her a bedtime story every night, only to be led back into his own bedroom. Summer would take his hand, squeeze it and lay down close to him.
Sometimes he would wake up in the middle of the night, feel how his wife wrapped her arms around him and whispered that it had only been a dream. Most of the times he would let her; he would bury his face in her hair and let her hold him. But Seth knew that it wasn't just a dream; when he woke up Lina wouldn't be there. She would still be in heaven. And it would never matter how many times Summer would tell him that it had been an accident, that it wasn't his fault.
He could hear her cry when she thought that he was asleep, he could hear how she tried to silent her crying with the pillow and he could feel how she sometimes left the bed and went out of their room. Seth always knew where she went; she would go to the children's room and make sure that they were okay. She would sit next to Isaac and Isabelle and after a while silently go back to hers and Seth's bed, crawl under the covers with a sigh and place a hand on his arm.
He hated that she always tried to be strong for him, that she tried to be strong for everyone. She tried so hard to make things get back to normal, and she insisted that they were going to have a normal Chrismukkah. Summer was the one to make all the plans and preparations, she was the one shopping for the kids and cooking. This year Summer had taken Seth's role as Chrismukkah enthusiast. Only he knew that it was all just a façade; a façade that soon would fall.
Throughout the years things had many times got in their way, and every time that had occurred they had found a way to grow stronger by it. Summer would be Seth's rock and Seth would be Summer's. That was how it worked. Now though, he had failed in being her rock; he was failing. And it hurt to see how hard she tried to make things better for him, to make him realise that life would go on. It hurt to know that she was putting everybody else first and not caring about herself, not caring about her own grief.
He had been to visit Lina again tonight; he'd left Summer alone with the twins and fled. Ever since that day, exactly two months ago, he'd go visit her as often as he could. Somehow it was easier that way, somehow standing by her grave and reading the capitals calmed him. It made him feel closer to her, and it made him not ruin the family he had left.
And now he was on his way home; knowing that the twins would be in their beds sleeping and Summer would be in their bed pretending to be asleep as he walked in. He knew that she always waited for him; he knew that she hated that he wasn't home. She worried about him, and he knew that she was afraid every time he left.
Somehow though, it was better that way.
They had bought the house just a few months before Lina was born, and it had been a perfect place to have a family in. When the twins were born two years later Summer had decided to be a fulltime mom. Had it all been too good? Seth had got everything he ever wanted and maybe he hadn't appreciated it enough. Why else would Lina have been taken away from them?
It was dark in the windows. He had been right that they would be in bed. As Seth walked up the steps to the front door he noticed how someone had put up the garland on the door, and as he walked inside a scent of newly baked cookies reached his nose. The banister of the stairs was decorated with Isabelle's and Isaac's shining stars and hearts; Summer had helped them cut them out of silk paper. She'd helped them glue on pearls and glitter.
Seth smiled sadly and continued up the stairs to the bedrooms. He opened the first door and walked into the twin's room. In one bed lay Isabelle, his little girl with curly brown hair and freckles on her nose. And in the other lay Isaac, their only son. He'd had two girls, two perfect daughters, and one beautiful boy. But now all he had was the two of them in this room; one daughter and one son. Lina was dead; she wasn't asleep in the room next to the twins'. His daughter was dead.
"Daddy," a voice called out as he was about to exit the room. For a second, Seth had believed the voice to belong to Lina.
He walked back inside, kneeling next to Isabelle's bed. "Go back to sleep, baby."
She snuggled into her pillow and nodded. "Love you, daddy," she whispered in a sleepy voice before closing her eyes. Isabelle had his eyes, while Lina had had Summer's.
Seth stayed in the room for awhile; he stroked Isabelle's curls and listened to her soft breathing. He felt how her small hand unconsciously hugged his sleeve. She had his curly hair and Summer's small nose, his chin and Summer's lips. Isabelle was as much him as she was Summer, while Lina had been all Summer. Was that why he missed her so much?
"Love you too," he whispered as he rose, swallowing all of the guilt. "Love you too, Isabelle."
Seth hated that he was a bad parent, that he was a bad father. All he wanted was to be there every night, make them breakfast and play with them. But he couldn't. He couldn't stop thinking that someone was missing, that Lina should be playing with them too. And therefore he couldn't be a good daddy for them.
He was scared that he had loved Lina more, that she had been his favourite. That he had been happier when she was born, that he had given her more time than the twins.
It was dark in their room, and Summer was asleep. She was not just pretending like she used to, but actually asleep. He could hear it on her breathing and she had her face turned to him, something that she never had. Lying there she looked so young, so delicate. She didn't deserve this to happen to her; she didn't deserve to lose her child before she was even thirty. And she didn't deserve to have a husband like him these days.
Next to her face, on his pillow, an envelope had been placed. In childish letters "to daddy" had been written. Seth opened the envelope which revealed a Christmas card. Ísabelle and Isaac had painted and Summer - he recognised her writing – had written "the best daddy in the whole world". A sad smile spread on his face and he crawled under the covers, placing the card on his bedside table.
If only he could believe that. If only he could be that daddy again.