Page 35 of The Summer We Mended
“But it’s still here.It’s just sleeping.Like this garage, like your studio in town.”
Lily let out a long sigh, her eyes scanning the space.“Do you remember when you were little, and you made a crooked soap dish?Called it ‘wave art?’”
Anna laughed through her tears.“It looked like a melted cookie.But you displayed it in the front window anyway.”
“Of course I did.You were proud of it.And so was I.”
Silence fell between them, not uncomfortable, just full.
“I found this box,” Anna said quietly.“I remember you making this for Dad, but why is it out here?”
Anna held up a mug her mother had made for her father.He loved coffee and often went through a whole pot in just a few hours, so Lily had made him a giant mug that held as much as a pot would.It was his prized possession.
“I had Cody bring that out here,” Lily replied softly.“There were certain things that I couldn’t bear to look at.”
“Did you mean to come back out for it and just didn’t?”
Lily hesitated.“At first, yes.I told myself I would.But every time I opened that door…” Her voice trailed off again.“It was like walking into a world that didn’t make sense anymore.A world where your dad was supposed to be alive.Helping me fire the kiln.Laughing at how I could never remember which shelf I put things on.”
Anna nodded.“I get that.I do.But… Mom, we’re all still here.And I think the studio’s waiting onyouto remind us all that beauty still belongs in the world.”
Lily’s jaw tightened, and she looked away, blinking rapidly.
“I’m not saying dive in and start taking commissions again,” Anna continued gently.“But what if… just one piece?Just one.For you.No rules.No deadlines.Just to remember what your hands can still do.”
Lily gave her a long look, eyes searching.“And if I can’t?”
“Then we try something else.But if you can?”Anna squeezed her mother’s hand.“Then maybe we do this together.You and me.One last summer.You don’t have to keep the studio open forever.But it’syourplace.And it deserves a goodbye, not a disappearance.”
Lily studied her daughter’s face.“And you’d help?”
“Every day,” Anna promised.“Me, the twins… I think they’d love getting their hands messy.And maybe it helps you.Helpsthem.Helps us all.”
Lily let out a breath that sounded like it had been held for months.“You always did know how to talk me into things.”
Anna smiled, squeezing her hand.“That’s because you and Dad raised me to never give up on the things or the people I love.”
Tears shimmered in Lily’s eyes.“God, I miss your dad.”
“I know,” Anna said, her voice breaking.“I do too.”
They stood there, holding each other for a minute.Lily pulled away and walked over to her wheel.She sat down and stared back at it.Her fingers ran over the dial, smiling at the backwardness of it.
Her fingers hovered over a lump of dry clay, then pulled back.
“I don’t know that I’m ready to do this today.”
“I’m not asking you to be ready immediately, Mom.I just…want you to at least entertain the idea.”
“I can entertain the idea, I guess,” Lily said with a sigh.“What if my creative spark doesn’t come back at all?What if I only had it because of your dad?”
“I think that’s a pretty crazy thought to have.You did pottery before you met Dad.”
“He was a muse in many ways, though,” Lily replied as she bit the inside of her cheek.
“That’s understandable.I think you’re sad and in a funk, of sorts.I learned in the grief support group that sometimes it’s hard for people to move on because they’re afraid they’ll forget their loved one.I know that I’ve felt guilty after laughing or smiling or having fun, because I’m scared that I shouldn’t be happy.”
A tear streamed down Lily’s cheek.“I feel all of those same things.I know that your father would have wanted us to be happy, but…it’s so hard to do so without thinking that I’m forgetting him.”
