But I felt him there. I remembered him. I wasn’t asleep, I was awake, and I remembered. And Mare was there.
And that night, I logged in my mind a story I’d tell Mare someday.
One of many bittersweet tales.
Sam tapped my wrist. “Nice bracelet. Orange soda and grape soda?”
I nodded, as Dad left to refill the popcorn. “From that day in the cemetery. I think I’ll wear it forever.”
Sam handed me her bottle cap and scooped mine off the coffee table. “Make me one with these?”
Something sparked inside me. Ideas maybe, the urge to create again, for the first time the desire to share my jewelry with others. “Okay, I’ll make you one, too.”
Mare had the other bracelet I’d made. Wherever he was, in the pumpkin maze of heaven built for him. So, I’d wear our matching bracelets until I saw him again. I’d make more of them, too.
Somewhere deep inside me, I knew he was proud.
Chapter Friday the 13th
Make the most of your regrets; never smother your sorrow, but tend and cherish it till it comes to have a separate and integral interest. To regret deeply is to live afresh.
Henry David Thoreau
60 YEARS LATER
Iclosed my eyes. Surrounded by my friends and companions. The heart monitor beeped slowly— hospice care, they called it. End-of-life care. My long life was ending. Picture frames adorned every inch of my room as I lay under my dark purple blankets. The color always reminded me of him.
Frames on the wall depicted my journeys in starting my own jewelry brand. A few pieces, a necklace, bracelets, a ring or two, turned into a little shop. That little shop morphed into an empire, and that empire amassed an eager and devoted following. My creations were called wearable art by the article that hung stamped on the wall of my oceanfront home. A sensation, they called me. The girl who alchemized her pain from losing her first love in a car accident and turned it into art created beauty from sorrow.
Seagulls cawed outside the window. Just another sunny day on the beach as my final number of breaths counted down like a sandcastle being swept away in the tide.
Mare visited my dreams from time to time. In nightmares, he was the king, and I was his.
Even in his death, he kept his promises. He found me, he took care of me, he pulled me out of my darkness, and thrusted me into the light in the most horrific ways imaginable.
And I was ready now.
So, I let out my last breath.
The last wave of mortality lapped upon my shore of life.
I closed my eyes.
Fall asleep and wait for me, Lilac… echoed through my mind as I swam toward that cliche bright light.
“Open your eyes,” a deep voice purred.
And there he was.
Palm outstretched.
Black hair swept back.
Purple eyes glowing.
We stood in our favorite pumpkin patch maze, and I knew it was Halloween here.
“My queen of dreams has found me at last,” he whispered, kissing my knuckle. My hand was no longer spotted with age, and my body moved free of aches and pains. My long hair draped down my back… finally, I could be with him.