Prologue ~

Memorial Day ~

"Mommy? Why do we have to come here? I don't like this place. It's scary." Six year old Timmy held tightly to his mother's hand as they walked quietly between the headstones to his grandfather's grave. His father trailed slightly behind. He didn't say it, but Timmy was pretty sure he was still mad about being here.

He thought that coming here was why his mommy and daddy were yelling at each other this morning. His daddy was complaining that he had too much work to do around the house, and he could remember her father just as easily at home, and his mommy had cried and said all he cared about was work; he didn't care about anyone else. Then Daddy had yelled how could she say that? The reason he was so far behind was because he worked so hard all the time trying to make ends meet, and all she did was spend money, and Mommy had cried more and said that was a horrible thing to say to her.

The yelling lasted a long time and got really loud. He had hidden by the kitchen door so they couldn't see him. But then, Daddy kicked a hole in the wall and started screaming into Mommy's face, really mean things that made Mommy look afraid, and Timmy had gotten really scared and ran away. He ran to the space under the stairs that only he knew about. Well, he and Mister Bear. But he didn't have Mister Bear right then. He thought he forgot him upstairs on his bed when he woke up. He'd pulled his legs up to his chin, wrapping his arms around them, and hid is face in his knees. Please stop, please stop, please stop...

Timmy didn't know how long he stayed hidden, but it was a long time. Long enough that Mommy and Daddy stopped fighting, but he still didn't move. He didn't move until Daddy had yelled at him to stop playing and come out from wherever he was or he would be sorry.

When he walked into the kitchen, Mommy smiled and hugged him and tried to act like nothing was wrong, but he could tell Daddy was still mad. All he said was, "Get in the car. The sooner we get this over with, the sooner we get back." Mommy had tried to pretend that she wasn't crying, but Timmy still saw.

Now they were here, and Mommy and Daddy still weren't talking to each other. It made Timmy feel sick in his tummy. He hoped they wouldn't fight anymore today. "Why are we here?" he asked again.

"Because today is a holiday," his mother answered. "It is a holiday where we remember people that we have loved that died."

"Like Grandpa?"

"Yes, sweetie. Like Grandpa. He isn't with us anymore, so this is one way we can still show that we love him."

"Oh. I love Grandpa. I wanna show him." Timmy looked around at the other headstones. "Will other people come too? To show that they love their grandpas?" Now that Mommy had explained, this place didn't seem so scary.

"Yes, baby. Probably so," Mommy answered.

They had stopped walking now, and Timmy saw his Mommy bend down. She put her hand on the stone, and a tear ran out of her eye. There were words on the stone that Timmy wished he could read, but he hadn't learned that in school yet.

"Hi, Daddy," she whispered. "We came." She didn't say anything else. She just sat there crying and holding the flowers she had brought. Timmy wasn't sure what she was going to do with those. He wished he could make her feel better.

Daddy didn't say anything either. He just kept looking mad.

Suddenly, Timmy remembered that Mommy said that they were supposed to show love when they were here. He didn't want anyone to think he didn't love his grandpa, especially his mommy. He should probably do something. Thinking of the only thing he remembered about his grandpa, Timmy knelt down and hugged the stone. His grandpa had given the best hugs, and hugging the stone wasn't exactly the same, but maybe it would be OK. "I love you, Grandpa. I wanted everyone to know," Timmy said quietly.

Mommy smiled really big even though tears still came out of her eyes, but Daddy was getting impatient. "Ok. Let's get going. I've got a lot to do."

Mommy didn't argue this time, and neither did Timmy. He immediately did what he was told because he didn't want Mommy and Daddy to fight in a place where you were supposed to show love.

As they stood up, Timmy saw a family on the very far other side of the field. They were here to show love to their grandpa too, but they didn't have a stone. It looked like they were standing next to a big hole in the ground. "Mommy, look," he pointed. "Their grandpa doesn't have a stone like mine does. How come?"

Analeise Graven looked in the direction her son was pointing, and her heart broke at the scene. I forgot that her service was today, she thought, remembering the obituary in the paper. "They don't have a stone, honey, because that person just died. They haven't had a chance to get one yet. Probably the next time we come to see Grandpa, they will have one."

Timmy seemed to take her words as explanation enough, and he hurried to catch up with Derek, who was several steps ahead, but she couldn't stop watching the grieving family. Or more specifically, the grieving husband.

He knelt at the very edge of the open grave, reaching in as if he could pull his wife from it or perhaps simply fall into it with her. Sobs literally shook his body, and his grown sons stood close as if they were prepared to catch him if he should fall. Behind them was a waiting limo in which the last of several small children was being settled, and women who Analeise assumed were the daughters stood watch as well, obviously concerned about their father.

How would it be to know such a love? A love so deep that your spouse's death felt like your own? She and Derek didn't love each other like that. Not anymore. Maybe they never had.

But looking at this man so openly broken, so broken that it seemed as if you could see the hole in his chest that was gaping wide—streaming with blood—as clearly as if he were literally ripped open, Analiese knew she was seeing the definition of an oft quoted verse by her own mother. One she usually quoted at weddings with tears in her eyes:

"And the two shall become one..."