Mature

I stepped from the limo, picture in hand and slowly made my way toward Jimmy and Leana’s grave. I had asked Devin for a few minutes alone as I said my goodbyes to my parents. I made my way toward their grave as the silky, smooth end of my dress dragged against the dirt ground. I found myself standing above their grave, picture in hand.

I looked down at the old photograph and felt myself hold back a quiet whimper. It was taken on my birthday, four years ago. I was leaning over Jimmy, who’s face was completely clueless as to the fact of why he had cake on him. I was smiling wildly when I took it and I could only chuckle at the picture.

I knelt down beside their grave and placed the picture under a small stone. I ran my fingers along the tomb and whispered, “I love you too, Dad.”

The name slid off my tongue like I had been using it since we’ve met. I heard gentle footsteps behind me and I turned, finding Devin coming up to the grave. He plucked the rose from his suit and gently placed it beside my picture. He laughed quietly and said, “I remember that day.”

“Me too.”I stood up and wiped at my watery eyes.

Devin placed a warm kiss on my forehead and said, “They’re both very proud of you right now, sweetheart.”

“I know.”I linked my arm in Devin’s and we slowly started to walk back toward the limo.

I laughed loudly as Devin quickly pulled me into his arms and off of the ground. The limo driver opened the door and gave us a warm smile. I let out quiet chuckles as he eventually placed me back on my feet, allowing me to get into the limo. The driver shut the door behind us and got back behind the wheel.

The limo slowly drove out of the cemetery, leaving behind more than just a few memories. The picture that was hidden under the small stone above Jimmy’s grave began to shudder and shift slightly under the wind. The picture moved forward, as if telling the eyes around them to read their tomb.

It was not only the wind that was touching and brushing against the old picture. It was Jimmy and Leana that only wanted to grasp the memory in their hands. Above the picture of Jimmy and Hillari, were crisp, clean letters marked right beside Leana’s words. In a soft script, they read -

James Owen Sullivan.
Loving Husband, Father and Friend.
“Don’t touch my drums.”