How do you continue? How can you face a world so lacking in color and laughter?
Silently strolling around the island, Katara found herself in a zombie-like state. The colorful leaves that reminded Aang so much of home swirled around her in the sweet fall air. She saw him everywhere she looked. A flash of red and gold, and a laugh from a running air acolyte. The back of the tattooed head of her youngest son as he sat under Aang's favorite tree, his wife gently holding his hand. The world found itself at a standstill as it mourned the loss of it's beloved Avatar. A commissioned piece, a likeness of the avatar himself, was being erected already on the water near the city center. Katara found herself overwhelmed by the amount of reminders. She could never want to forget him, of course, but she needed time to mourn by herself.
The funeral was full of stories and homage to the great man himself, and although she had been surrounded by her children and family, she felt utterly alone. This was the circle of things, she had lost before, and she had moved on, and others had lost their loved ones and continued happily. She just couldn't imagine herself at that point.
She found herself compelled to continue down the path towards Tenzin and Pema, and sat down between him and the tree. Tenzin acknowledged her by grasping her hand much in the same way that he held Pema's. When Katara looked up she found mirrored the same tears and lost look that she herself wore. As much as Aang loved each of his children, he had felt most compelled to spend time with Tenzin, due to their mutual ability of airbending. This created a bond that went beyond father and son, and while she knew her other children were in mourning, she was sure that neither of them were suffering as much as her little Ten.
"He loved you so much, mother, his last words to us all were about taking care of you, I...I just wanted you to know that," Tenzin said slowly. Pema squeezed his hand softly as he began to talk. In what was the first spill of emotion besides silent tears that she had seen from him since his father passed.
Katara looked up at her son and he continued, "I don't think that you need care. I think you are strong...however, you need to leave this place. Go, go with Kya and make a home for yourself in the Southern Water Tribe, you need to make a new home for yourself...away from these memories. It is my responsibility to stay. To stay and continue dad's work and teach new generations of airbenders. Hopefully have our own," he said with a shy glance at Pema, "I'll miss you, but you need to do this. For yourself."
Katara mused on this, weighing the different things pulling her to stay and forcing her to leave. She found herself so full of love for her little boy, he would do a wonderful job here. She rose to her knees and bent Tenzin's head down to plant a kiss on his arrow, like she had done with Aang so many times, and felt the wet tears drop from her cheeks to his head. She put herself at eye level with him and held his broad shoulders.
"You are your father's pride, Ten. And you are just as wise as he. I will go, if you will promise to visit often, bring by my grandchildren?" She added with a smile at Pema.
"I'll begin the preparations for you at once," Tenzin said, intending to get up and head back to their home.
"No. No, you stay here. I can alert everyone." She rested a hand momentarily on Aang's tree and said a last silent goodbye. As she made her way back she felt compelled to look back over the scene of the area that she and Aang had spent so much time together enjoying. There was still a man in a red and gold cloak and his wife sitting there, embracing, enjoying their time together...such a familiar scene. She watched Pema kiss each of the tears off of her husbands face, and hold him close to her. It is interesting. One day, somewhat miraculously, we are made a part of this love, the next we are mercilessly kicked out by fate's cruel hands and find ourselves outsiders, banging on the doors, begging to be let back in to satisfy our addiction to love- just one last time. It will not be so, and we are forced to spend the rest of our days watching others experience those touches and moments that we so long for.
Tenzin burries his head into Pemas shoulders, shuddering as his grief racks him. Pema curls around him trying her best to comfort the ache that time will only gradually heal. His head turns upward, finding her brown eyes with his blues, thanking her for the great balm that her mere presence is to his pain.
So was it worth it?
Yes, yes it was.
Fin