September 21st

#Chapter8 September 21st

My mom bought a fresh bouquet of red roses on our way to my dad's grave. Seeing her smile appear on her face makes me smile, even though we both knew that we would all be happier if my father was still alive. I kept on wondering how much she longed for him? how long did she suffer before she could even let dad go? and how did she manage it while I, on the other hand, still can't?

Arthur Oscar Jones. She caressed the name on my dad's tombstone as she placed both of the white candles at the side and started lighting them up. She stood up and stare at dad, lying on the soil that welcomed his presence, and as time passes by, his soul was descended, and all was left was his bones.