Life, like omnibus set to discover our destination. Death, the inevitable call we must all answer. Life is not fair, death is cruel.
I sit in these whispering trees, learning to accept the memories I try to forget; learning to forget my past. But, each proclamation comes my redemption to remember everything I try to forget and my eyes become wet, and my mind floats, my throat dries, my hope dashed away.
I cannot accept my memories. I cannot forget my memories.
Memories are the worst pain.
How can I forget the memories that define the meaning of my life? How do I discern to remember the fragments that hold my existence? How can I forget the towering of joy that have taken my twelve years of sorrow away and yet desert me? How can I forget the only source of my happiness?
As I am left stripped out of my existence. I realize that death is cruel and life is unfair.
Dare had come like a blessing; an opening to a new world of happiness for me. He had appeared like a dream conceived from vague territory; like a dove perched on a high mountain.
He never saw his father. He died before he was born.
He came with life as sweet as every good thing. He reaffirmed me. He gave me a new life. He made me a mother. He was my first and only son.
Eighteen years. Eighteen years after this homegrown love and gift, life with twisted faith, held my Dare in his claw and submitted him for death’s signature. He told me he was leaving me to be with me. I did not understand. I was like a minuscule wrapped paper, squeezed and deeped into a kerosene ready to be set on fire. He said he was leaving me to be with me. I was confused.
I was knot.
“Please don’t leave me.” in tears.
“Don’t go Dare.”
“Mom,” paused, slowly, “No, I am not.”
“Don’t leave me Dare, the world will be wide for me,”
“I am Not, Mom, I will be with you.”
“I can only go to be with you, Mom. I can only go to be with you.”
“Please don’t go. Don’t go Dare!”
“I have to go mother to be with you forever,”
“Don’t go Dare, stay with me, and be with me. Please.”
“To live mom, I must first die,” were his last word.
All my life I have tarried on those words finding meaning to it but I do not find any meaning until now. All I have wanted then is to forget my past and focus on the future. But now in this whispering trees everything start making meaning to me, that I can have Dare again; I can live with Dare again if only I can accept my memories.
For the first time I accept my memories: I accept Dare.
As long as memories live, he lives.