A gentle rain fell from the sky as Steve Sloan crossed the cemetery with a bouquet in his hands. Not that he minded; the weather matched the mood he was in. He stopped at his mother's grave and allowed a few silent tears to slip down his cheeks. She'd been gone over ten years, and a lump still lodged itself in his throat every time he came by for a visit. At least today his tears could mingle with the rain, and no one would be the wiser.

"Hi Mom," he whispered finally. "I just came by to wish you a happy birthday. Dad will probably by later after he finishes his shift at the hospital. But in case he doesn't make it, these flowers are from both of us. It's a mix of your favorites - snapdragons and buttercups.

"Dad and I both doing fine; staying busy. He keeps saying he's going to retire, but he keeps finding reasons not to. Maybe one of these days I'll be able to convince to at least cut back on his duties. Things at the station are pretty hectic for me too. There are days I wonder what I was thinking when I became a cop. But every time I close a case, whenever I see justice get served, there's a sense of pleasure in knowing that I've done my job. I hope you'd be proud of me, Mom."

Steve bent down to place the flowers in the vase that sat on the ground in front of his mother's headstone. As he stood to his full height, he spoke again. "Happy birthday, Mom. I love you."

He slowly made his way back through the lonely graveyard, in no hurry to return to his job. He passed a young woman at another grave, and he might not have paid her any attention, had he not heard the sobs that escaped her. He turned and backtracked the few feet that separated them.

Steve placed a gentle hand on her shoulder and spoke in a voice that matched his gesture. "Ma'am, are you all right?"

The young woman tensed in surprise, but when Steve offered an apologetic smile, she slowly relaxed and accepted the handkerchief he held out.

She dried her eyes as she spoke. "Thank you. I'm okay. I came to visit my mom. I thought I'd be fine to come alone, but now I wish I'd asked a friend to join me."

A quick glance at the headstone told Steve that his companion had lost her mother less than a year ago. He well remembered his state of mind during the first year after his own mom's passing.

"Look, I know you don't know me, but I know what it's like to lose a parent. If you'd like to talk about it, I don't mind listening."

Steve motioned to a nearby gazebo, and when the young lady nodded, he took her by the elbow to lead her away from the grave. They sat down on the gazebo's bench, and after taking a few moments to compose herself, the young lady began to speak.

"It was cancer. The doctors thought they'd caught it early enough to do something about it, but….She spent six weeks in the hospital, and she was always talking about when she'd be able to come back home. I talked to her on the phone that night when I got home from work; she sounded fine. When the hospital called a few hours later…"

Steve nodded in empathy as the lady's tears started all over again. His mind went back to the panic he'd felt when his dad had called him about his mom. The next few days had blurred by as final preparations were made, but for weeks afterward, time dragged by. The long days and sleepless nights never seemed to end. Looking back on it now, he realized that he never would have made it through without his dad.

"What kills me," the young lady finally continued, "is that she wasn't just my mom; she was my best friend. I could talk to her about anything; every time we were together, all it took was one look and we knew exactly what the other one was thinking. There have been so many times I've picked up my phone to call her, and I'm half way through dialing her number before I remember that she isn't there to answer."

Without thinking, Steve wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her into a gentle hug. He knew exactly what she meant. He did the same thing, even after all these years. At least he still had his dad to talk to.

"It sounds like you were about your mom, the way I am about my dad. I can't imagine my life without him in it. As hard as it was to lose my mom, it'll be even harder when Dad's gone, because he and I are so close." Steve paused. "You know, I remember when my mom first died, I felt like life would never be the same, like the pain would never go away."

"Does it?"

The young woman lifted her head from Steve's shoulder, and he sighed as he looked her squarely in the eye.

"No, but it gets easier. Life goes on, and eventually you'll look back and realize that somewhere along the way…'normal' took on a new meaning. But you'll never stop thinking about her; you'll never forget her. Because you loved her, and she loved you. And as long as you remember that, your mom will always be alive."

A sad smile crossed the woman's face as she returned Steve's handkerchief. "I feel better, just being able to talk to somebody that understands. Thank you for listening; it means a lot."

The pair stood and exited the gazebo to go their separate ways. As Steve walked through the rain to his truck, he reached into his jacket pocket for his cell phone, then dialed his father's number. A few tears welled in his eyes at the sound of his dad's voice on the other end of the line; it was the best sound in the world.