Page 85 of A Thousand Broken Pieces

Lost to the hours it took to fix the plate, I sat back when the final piece had been fixed back into place. As I looked down upon my lacquered plate, I lost my breath.

It was fixed. It wasn’t as it was before, but it was put back together. It was something new. But it was a plate again.

“What do we see now when we look at our plates?” Aika asked, her voice softer now, gentler, like she knew we were all as fragile as the plates we’d just spent our day rebuilding. The lacquer would take time to dry. To make it as strong as it was before.

“It’s beautiful,” Savannah said, staring down at her plate. She blinked away tears from her eyes and met Aika’s gaze. “I think it’s even more beautiful than it was before.”

“Ah,” Aika said. “This is true.” She gestured to all our plates. “A lesson then,” she said and smiled. “That that which is broken, once repaired, can be more beautiful than it was before.”

Chills tracked down my spine and spread out over my body. I reached out and took Savannah’s hand. Her fingers were trembling, and when I looked up, tears were trickling down her cheeks, like they were her own salty tracks of lacquer. I stared, captivated by my girl. She had been beautiful when we’d met. When she was broken into thousands of pieces. But now, when this trip and therapy had gradually glued her back together with golden lacquer, she was more beautiful than ever.

I knew my own pieces were still broken. Not all lacquered back together …yet. But as I looked down at my plate, I knew Icouldbe. Someday. I would never be the same after losing Cillian—none of us were after losing our loved ones. You couldn’t lose someone you loved so much and ever return to the person you were before.

Loss changed you.

But you couldheal. You could repair your fractured spirit with golden lacquer and hold on tolife. That life wouldn’t look the same ever again. But it didn’t mean that it wouldn’t be worthwhile. That it wouldn’t be beautiful. Perhaps loss taught a person to love lifemore. Because you understood what it was like to lose that life. You wouldn’t take it for granted anymore.

I knew I wasn’t there yet. But if I kept going. If I kepttrying, kept repairing my broken pieces, perhaps I could be.

A hand landed on my shoulder. Aika stood beside me. “I want to give you all a kit to take with you. For you to practice at home.” She smiled, and her brown eyes were filled with kindness. “For when you feel life cannot be beautiful again.”

“Thank you,” I whispered and clutched on to that gifted kintsugi kit like it was my lifeline. Like if I just held on tight enough, my veins would run with golden lacquer, enter my arteries and repair my broken heart.

I heard Aika’s voice echo in my head …“Wabi-sabi teaches us to embrace life’s imperfections, its impermanence and incompleteness.”

Nothing lasts forever. Life, happiness … even pain.

Buthopedid. If being around Savannah had taught me anything, it was that hope always hovered nearby. And if it was lost, it could be found again.

Savannah laid her head on my shoulder and just stared at her plate. I stared down at my own, the world disappearing around us. Ihadto find a way to repair my broken pieces. I kissed Savannah’s hair, smelled her cherry and almond scent. I wanted a life with this girl. I wanted to find happiness with her too.

I just wantedher, in every way.

The golden lacquer glimmered in the overhead lights. Maybe Savannah’s heart and mine had been broken by the loss of our siblings. But when we began to repair them, maybe we melded them back together to create our two hearts as one.

We were stronger that way. Beating in unison.

And I was sure they were more beautiful than they had ever been on their own.

Blossom Flowers and Old Friends

Savannah,

I know many people wonder why I love cherry blossom trees so much. I always have. We were raised among them. Their colors, their fragility were just something I was fascinated by. Most children counted down until Christmas. I counted down the days until it was cherry blossom season.

As I sit here now, they have bloomed. The blossom grove is full of pink and white petals. It is alive, so alive. The sweet floral fragrance, the stunning beauty that has bloomed, takes my breath away each time I am taken there.

I can no longer walk. I use a wheelchair now. But I don’t mind. As long as I get to see my blossom grove in all its beauty, one more time, I am content. Especially with my Rune by my side. We can sit for hours there. I am safe in his arms beneath those trees. Every breath I take is cherished. Every kiss Rune gives me is a gift I didn’t think I would have again.

I have taken none of it for granted.

But this year’s bloom is bittersweet, as I know it will be my last on this Earth. I know that soon, when the first petal falls, my breaths will become numbered. My heartbeats will be finite. I grow tired, Savannah. Even now, simply holding the pen and writing to youexhausts me. But I feel no fear. I want you to know that. Like the cherry blossom flower, I may have had a short life, but it has been vibrant and full, and so very sweet.

Sweetest when I am with the ones I love. The sweetest when I am with you and Ida. With my Rune.

God knew my life would be short, Savannah. That is why He gave me my love of cherry blossoms. So that I would understand what it was to live a limited but full life. I was born in Blossom Grove to live among the trees my life was so inspired by. I believe that. Nothing is permanent in this life, Savannah. So, embrace its beauty while you can.

When you read this, know that I am in heaven, safe among cherry blossoms that no longer die. And I will be so happy to sit beneath them, thinking of my family, thriving in their lives until they return to me and, like the heavenly cherry blossom trees I wait beneath, stay forever by my side.

---