Page 88 of A Thousand Broken Pieces

He was quiet for a few minutes, our conversation floating above us. “I don’t regret a single moment of my life with your sister, Sav,” he said. “Even the bad times. The very worst times. When she was down, in the trenches, I was there with her. She knew that. That’s what made us so strong. Thrive or fail, I was beside her, holding her hand. Nothing would make me leave her … not even death.”

I pictured Cael and knew that was us too. I would be with him through rain or sunshine, when he was dancing in the light or lost in the dark. I just prayed he knew he had me, one hundred percent. I knew he thought himself a burden to me. But he was far from it. He elevated me. Made me soar. I knew he hated when he broke, when he was down and sinking into darkness. But what Cael did not get was that vulnerability only made me love him more. I’d come to understand that we showed our worst to those we love best. There was no judgment. Only complete, unwavering support.

I clutched on to Rune’s arm. “I’m real glad you’re here,” I said and laid my cheek on his bicep. “A piece of home with me halfway across the world.” I smiled as the cherry blossoms swayed in the breeze again. “A piece of Poppy.”

Rune kissed my hair and we sat in silence, just watching the trees my sister loved so much. Remembering her. Honoring her. Thinking of her.

Lovingher.

Forever Always.

Goodbye

Savannah

Otsuchi, Japan

WE ARRIVED AT THE SMALL COASTAL TOWN OFOTSUCHI ON A HAZY AFTERNOON. It was vastly different from Kyoto. A sea dominated the view. Trees and fields. But it was remote and quiet.

I had left Kyoto feeling full but also a bit raw. Seeing that many blossom trees in full bloom and seeing and speaking to Rune … it was beautiful but also difficult. It was the little things, I realized, that could trigger a pang of grief in your heart. A feeling so overwhelming and strong that, for a few hours, it could thrust you back into the fire. But I had learned to climb out of it, a little charred but not burned. That was progress.

Although Kyoto had been difficult at times, I had tried my hardest to feel the beauty there too. I had visited a place Poppy had so desperately wanted to see. And I had been there with Rune. I knew she would have been so joyful about that. Rune had taken a picture of us both together, among the pink and white sea of petals. And I knew when I returned to Blossom Grove, Georgia, that picture would be leaning against my sister’s grave.

Rune had come to dinner with us all on the trip. We had talked of Poppy with wide smiles on our faces and tears in our eyes, remembering her fondly. It had been long overdue with the boy I thought of as a brother.

And Rune being Rune took a walk that evening with Dylan. When they returned, Dylan seemed lighter in his gait. His eyes didn’t seem so heavy. My heart squeezed looking at the two of them—good men who had had to part with their soulmates far too soon. I had looked at Cael then. He had wrapped his arms around me without words, as if he had read there was a little sadness on my soul. As if he had had the same dark thought as I—if anything happened to him … I didn’t know how I would come back from that. It made me more in awe of Rune than I had ever been. How he had picked up his life and was actuallylivingit. He was making his dream of being a photographer a reality. He had made living for Poppy his purpose.

Honor. Japan had taught that above anything. That every action should be done with honor, with purpose. That we, as people, needed to understand that nothing lasted forever. Everything was temporary, from the cherry blossoms to the seasons to the short lives of flowers or pets to both good and hard times. Everything passed; everything started anew.

Especially life.

All but love.

Life was messy. It could break you and tear you apart. But that didn’t mean that life, in all its imperfection, couldn’t be made and remade into something beautiful, that brokenness had to be ugly. It could be mesmerizing and breathtaking.

Simply looking at Cael reminded me of that.

And now we were here. In a new part of Japan. Small and still. Our very final stop. There was a melancholy within me. I had fought so hard against coming on this trip. Now I was desperate to stay. But I knew we had to break out of our bubble if we were to truly move on. We had to take everything we had learned back to our normal lives.

I just prayed the strength I felt within me now persevered. I felt it would. Seeing other cultures, facing the issues I had buried down deep had been liberating. I felt like a previously caged bird close to being set free.

But we had one more stop. Just one more stop before I could spread my wings and fly.

“Tomorrow,” Leo said as we gathered in the hotel’s rec room they had booked out just for us, “will be the culmination of all this trip has taught.”Nerves ran up and down my body like electricity. Mia and Leo hadn’t told us what was going to happen. But I knew it must have been something poignant. I tried not to panic over it. But just let it come. I had become better at facing whatever life threw at me now.

I was wrapped in Cael’s arms on the couch. His body was taut and his eyes haunted. I couldn’t believe that, soon, I wouldn’t have him walking beside me. As if he felt my heart sink at that thought, he pulled me closer. I melted into his strong embrace.

After we finished dinner, I walked hand in hand with Cael back to my room. He waited for me at the door. I needed him with me right now. Because tonight was poignant for me. I walked to the dresser, and lying on the top was Poppy’s notebook.

I turned to Cael, who had been watching me with hawk eyes. His silver-blue gaze softened as I pulled the notebook to my chest. With a trembling lip and voice, I said, “I’m on the very last page.”

Somehow, I had read through the tens and tens of notebook entries Poppy had left me. I had written back to her in the journal Mia and Leo had given me. It felt good to share this journey with her. Helped me to connect to her again. Through her entries, Poppy had lifted me up when I was falling down, had been the golden lacquer to my chipped shards when I had broken apart.

Throughout the pages, she had kept vigil beside me on this trip. When I had cried myself to sleep. When I had been homesick … but not as much as expected, because I had my sister talking to me every night.

But this was it.

This was the final night, the final chapter of her farewell to me. And as much as I didn’t want to read it, I knew I had to. I didn’t want to say goodbye to her stunning words, her uplifting prose. I hadn’t wanted to say goodbye to my sister four years ago, and I certainly didn’t want to say it to her now.

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