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For Mike. Your mother was a great lady, and we're all diminished by her absence.

Originally posted December 2011; revised slightly in July 2023.

Greatness Echoed

For a moment, she thought about ignoring the chime. But there was a mild sensation at the back of her mind that told her who the visitor was and, she realized, she wouldn't mind his company right now.

"Come in," called T'Pol.

Trip stopped just past the threshold, letting the door slide closed but not advancing into her quarters. His eyes immediately went to the lit candles. "I'm interrupting."

"I wouldn't have responded to the door chime had I not been interested in your company."

"That's fair," he said, nodding but not moving. "I just...I just wanted to say...tushah nash-veh k'odu." His pronunciation was accented, but not incorrect. I grieve with thee.

"I thank you," she responded formally, rising but leaving the candles lit.

The hint of a smile appeared briefly. "I thought Vulcans didn't say 'thank you.'"

"It's an approximation of the traditional response," she answered, "transliterated into English. I wanted you to understand me."

He nodded. "Yes. Hoshi taught me how to say that, but I don't know which word is which. How are you? Doing all right?"

"Under the circumstances, I believe I am doing adequately enough."

"That's good to hear," he replied. They fell silent for a moment, until he made a nervous gesture. "Well, I guess I'll...leave you alone now."

"It's all right. Please come in."

He took a few cautious steps, looking at the candles with some interest. "Were you meditating?"

"No. It is a ritual of remembrance."

"For your mother." He took a long breath. "She was a great lady."

"I had gotten the impression you and she were not on the best of terms."

"She didn't approve of me," he answered. "But it was because she was afraid I might hurt you. I can accept that. It's honorable in a parent."

T'Pol sat back down in front of the candles. "I believe she came to view you with some respect. She asked after your welfare while we were in the Syrranites' compound."

"How did you answer her?"

"I told her that the adjustment had…not been easy, but that you'd made an effort that I greatly appreciated. I believe she respected you even more after that." She paused. "As I do."

He looked away, taking another breath, before meeting her eyes again. "Like I said, she was a great lady."

"Please sit down," she said softly.

To her surprise, he sat not across from her, but beside her. He slid off his shoes, and she realized he was wearing neatly pressed civilian clothes: he was here as Trip, not Commander Tucker. He'd stood with the crew, in dress uniform and formally presented ranks, during the official ceremony earlier in the day.

"Is it okay for me to be a part of this?" he asked now, bringing her back to the moment.

"An honest sentiment is always welcome in these circumstances."

"Honest," he repeated in a near-whisper. Then, at a more discernible volume, he continued, "I mean...you know, in your quarters...alone, with a man who's not..." he trailed off.

She briefly laid her hand over his, knowing that now was not the time to explain that Koss had released her. "I'm grateful that you're here."

The repetition of the sentiment she'd expressed just prior to her marriage ceremony wasn't lost on him; his lips twitched briefly before he responded. "I just wanted to make sure you're all right."

"I'm fine."

"Really." It wasn't a question.

She took a single breath of her own, understanding that he knew her better than most. "As I said, I'm fine given the circumstances. The ritual is…comforting." Another indication of friendship: with someone else, she might not have been able to even admit something like that.

He nodded. "Were you finished? Don't let me interrupt."

"You aren't." She faced the candles again and began reciting the ages-old litany, although she spoke the words in English for his benefit. "We honor the memory of T'Les, my mother. I am diminished by your death but enriched by your life. It is one to be held in the highest regard and esteem." She paused. "You are welcome to add any comments, if you would like."

He gave her a sideways look, and his words were hesitant. "We will remember you. At the...rising of the sun – suns – and the setting of the moon, I'll remember, for as long as I'll live." He paused. "It's something I heard once, at another funeral, and it's true."

"Indeed."

Now he was the one who took her hand, holding it gently in support. They sat in silence for a long time, quietly sharing the moment. His words echoed through her mind. She was a great lady. That, thought T'Pol, was not only true, but an indicator of Trip's own worthiness for respect. He, more than most, had good reason to think poorly of her mother.

Leaning forward, she blew out the candles. "It's getting late."

He dropped her hand and stood up. "Yes. I won't keep you up. I...I just appreciate you letting me be a part of this."

"I am honored." Such simple words, yet they carried such a profound meaning. "As, I'm sure, she would be."

Trip nodded and reached up to brush her cheek briefly before he left. "Grief may be an emotion, but that saying I got from Hoshi is Vulcan. I'm here if you need me."

She took a deep breath as the door slid shut, before reaching for the padd with the Kir'Shara translation. Following an impulse, T'Pol keyed the search function for any other Vulcan sayings about grief. There was one; she pulled it up.

Shetau tushah-kyhnna tor'ulef-tushah. Grief shared becomes grief halved.

She laid the padd back down and let tears trickle down her face. It was appropriate for grieving, and it was appropriate for now. She might be the only one in her quarters at this point, but she wasn't alone, either physically or emotionally, and she knew it; and that, like the ritual, brought significant comfort.

Author's Note: Vulcan translations are courtesy the Vulcan Language Dictionary, although the proverb I placed in the Kir'Shara is actually a Honduran proverb from here on Earth. The litany that T'Pol uses is taken from information in the Star Trek Online Geekipedia. Trip paraphrases a prayer from the Jewish Yizkor Service.