Page 160 of Until August
“Thank you for coming,” I said when I’d made my way over to them. I’d barely spoken to them since Christmas.
My mother pulled me into her arms. “Oh, honey. We’re family. Of course, we’re here.”
“Have a meatball,” my dad said. “Cruz always loved them.”
“He did,” I said with a little laugh. “He loved your meatballs, Dad. And he loved you. Both of you.”
“We were his family, too,” my mom said.
“I know. And I’m sorry. I know you disagree with my choices. But the first choice I made… to keep him alive… was for me. It was selfish and wrong, and I—”
“Don’t say that, Nicola,” my father said sternly. “It’s not our place to play God.”
I knew that’s how they felt, but I couldn’t change their opinion, and I wasn’t even going to try. “Just let me finish. Please. When I chose to end his life, I didn’t make the decision lightly. I kept thinking… what would Cruz want? And I knew what he would have wanted. Cruz was a proud man, and I took away his dignity. I reduced him to a state where he was completely dependent on everyone around him. Babies can do more for themselves than he could. So, in the end, I wanted to give him back his dignity. To let him die with grace. On his own terms. In his own time. I did it out of love. It was the hardest decision I’d ever made in my life. But I know it was the right one. I hope you forgive me, but if you can’t, then your love is enough.”
When I finished my little speech, they didn’t say a word.
My mother wiped away her tears. My father cleared his throat, looking like he’d rather be anywhere other than here, having this conversation.
Forgiveness, as I knew, took time. I’d said everything I needed to say, so I didn’t push for more.
“Enjoy the party,” I said before I moved away to talk to some of the others. As if this was a wedding reception or a birthday celebration.
But it was a celebration, wasn’t it?
We were celebrating a life well lived.
On a cold, clear winter’s night with flames from the bonfire lighting up the darkness, all the people I loved gathered on the beach to say their final goodbyes.
Well, almost everyone.
One was notably absent.
* * *
Hours later, after sharing stories about Cruz and laughing about happier times, we gathered at the water’s edge with our sky lanterns. We’d written our wishes and messages with markers on the thin white paper.
I’d said all I needed to Cruz, so instead of words, I drew the infinity symbol on mine.
We set light to them, and then we let them go.
White paper lanterns drifted into the sky and flew over the ocean, lighting a trail to the heavens. It was so heartbreakingly beautiful. So poignant.
I had loved, and I had lost. But I was still standing. I was still here celebrating this crazy thing called life.
It didn’t feel like goodbye.
It felt more like I’ll see you again in another life.
I will find you, and we will laugh and smile and walk in the sun again.
But I wasn’t ready to find him yet. I still had so very many things I wanted to do.
You think you’ll never be happy again when you lose someone you love. But little by little, I was starting to let the light in.
It was only when the lights from the lanterns faded into the darkness that I turned.
And that was when I saw him. August Harper.
