When we reach the headstone, my nerves are all over the place. I look up at Brisban; he’s holding William on his hip. He’s a year old now and getting so big.
“You want me to take him?” I ask, concerned that he needs to gather himself some.
“No, it’s okay.” He lets go of my hand and kneels down in front of the stone still holding William.
“Hey, baby girl. It’s Daddy.”
I bring my hand up and cover my mouth while gritting my teeth. Tears fill my eyes and tightness sets up shop in my gut.
“I’m sorry it took me so long to come.” He looks at William. “This is your baby brother. His name is William. We named him after you.”
His voice is shaky and I’m doing all I can to be strong for him. I step up and place my hand on his shoulder for support but stay quiet.
“I would’ve come sooner but I couldn’t. I’m sorry, Willow. I’m sorry I lost you. I’ll always miss you and I’ll always love you. I promise to keep your memory alive and William will grow knowing what an amazing sister he had.”
He sniffs and stands up. I put my arm around him. He looks up into sky. “That’s where she is.” Then he nods back toward her grave. “She’s not there. Willow was always an angel. Now she’s an angel in the sky.”
“Yes, she is,” I whisper. One tear trickles down my cheek. I don’t wipe it away, I just let it fall. He’s not hiding his feelings and neither am I. This is a part of his life which means it’s part of me too. His tears, his pain, and all of his happiness and love are ours.
Our story isn’t typical and neither is our love. I’m okay with that because love can’t ever be defined.
It can only be felt.