It is 5pm. Again, Lisa will gather all her toys, colouring utensils and books to spend her time at the backyard. It's not just backyard. It is that particular spot. Under that particular tree.
She will ask me to spread a piece of beach mat there and request to have her me-time all by herself. Ironically, she is only 3 years old. Isn't it too young to request for time to be alone? But I know. I just know.
I will watch her from the kitchen window while I prepare our dinner. You can see her smile while playing with her toys. Sometimes you hear her talking as though someone is there talking back to her.
Never a day I prepare dinner without tears. They roll down my cheek like a leaking water pipe. It is not that I am sad. While happily cooking and gazing at my daughter, I could not help but to tear.
She is so beautiful. Just like her mom. Her smile and her dimples, so much resemblance as her mom. But she will never have the chance to touch her. To feel her warm caress. I showed her her mom's picture before. She will giggle with joy as though she has known her.
One day...
One day when I am ready. When I think she is ready.
I will tell her.
That her mom could not make it after giving birth. And that her mom had requested to bury her ashes right on the ground where the tree is.
I hope Lisa is ready to know this fact and won't feel she is the reason her mom was gone.
Dear wife, I miss you so much.
Indeed, "Because someone we love is in heaven, there is always a little heaven in our home (and at that tree)".
If you do not know what freewrite is, it is a plan by @mariannewest and @improv to just free flow write out our thoughts, where there is no fear of whether what we write is good or not. Just relax and have fun and write in that 5-minutes-time. Here is the introductory post. Come on, you can start joining and have fun too! ☺ And now we have @freewritehouse, yay! Have a visit and you will not regret!
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