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My mother loved it out here. Huge southern live oak trees line the perimeter of my parents’ lot, keeping the yard shady most of the day. The evening air is muggy, making my throat feel thick with humidity. I take a seat on the rocking bench where my dad and mom used to rock back and forthtogether. It's here that I finally let the tears fall. There's so much emotion behind each drop.
I miss my mom.
I hate the fact that there's a new woman here. She doesn’t belong in this house, standing next to my dad. It should be my mom at game night, my mom arranging the veggie tray.
I'm sure Anna Mae is great, but it wouldn’t matter who my dad brought home.
No woman compares to my mom.
I've been outside too long, and it will look bad if I don’t go back in, so I take three deep breaths and wipe my cheeks. I have to pull myself together. It's game night, for heaven’s sake. Not cry-your-eyes-out night.
Then the back door swings open.
It’s Tyler.
He hesitates under the porch light, hands in his pockets. His eyes are kind, as if he knows exactly what I’ve been doing out here. Even if he didn’t know, I’m sure my red eyes and dripping nose give it away.
I stand. “I just came out here to—”
“You came out here to cry,” he says, walking over to me. He sits down, using his toe to nudge the swing back and forth. The edge of the bench hits the back of my leg a few times before I finally decide to sit too.
“Yes.” I look at him from the side. “I came out here to cry.”
“How are you holding up? I can tell this is hard for you.”
“Hardwould be my father dating somebody new. But this—thisis beyond hard. She looks exactly like my mom. I had to do a double take when she walked in, and even though my mind knew it wasn’t her, my heart still lifted as if it were.”
“What was your mom like?”
I relax a little, glad that he didn’t tell me I was overreacting or that it would all be okay.
“She was so beautiful…inside and outside. She always looked classy with makeup and jewelry and an elegant sense of style. But beyond that, she had the kindest heart. She loved hosting parties and decorating our house so that every holiday felt magical. She gave thoughtful gifts, spent hours serving others, and she made everyone who entered her life feel like they were the most important person to her.” I shake my head, wiping away the fresh tears that wet my cheeks.
“I remember when Kristen died, everyone told me it would get easier.”
“Does it?”
“In a way.” He looks at a nearby tree, and I follow his gaze, watching a leaf slowly float to the ground from the evening breeze. “The ache is always there. But the only reason it gets easier is because you’ve learned to live with it.”
“I guess I’m not there yet, because I’m not learning to live with it.”
“Your dad dating someone that looks identical to your mom would be difficult for anyone to get used to.”
I snort. “You’re telling me.”
“Tonight is just one moment. You don’t have to have what you’re feeling all figured out. Just take it one second at a time. One minute. One hour. One night.”
How does Tyler know the perfect thing to say to me? I guess because in a way, he’s been here too.
“What was Kristen like?”
His expression melts into a smile, and for some reason, that smile stings.
“She was so much fun. She loved people and throwing parties, just like your mom. She was happy all the time, which made her an excellent mother. At bedtime, she would make up the most ridiculous songs and sing them to Krew. It’s not like she had an amazing voice, but I would still lean against the wall out in the hall and listen to her sing to him. She was great with children, especially those that were struggling. Her entire life goal was to help kids with terminal illness work through their emotions and how they were feeling when they got diagnosed. When she died, I knew I was losing a lot, but my heart breaks for all those kids she was helping and the ones she could’ve helped. They’re the ones that will really miss all of her special gifts.” His eyes fix on me. “Sounds like she was just like your mom. A person who was fiercely loved who died too soon.”
I can see how much Tyler loved his wife, and it makes me feel better about hanging onto my mom so desperately—like it’s okay that I’m not letting go.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
