Eleventh Lovely

October 13th.
The one day each year where the three of us set aside everything. I had the day off, and it was a Saturday. So this year, we spent the whole day together. From the moment I woke up, everything was just different. There really wasn't a proper word to explain it. Everything just seemed off in a way. Even my bed, which always remained a full, and I always slept on the left side. Opening my eyes, looking over, and seeing nothing always felt so odd. I guess I never really got over it. Instead, today, I saw a card. Crayons and markers--Couro's markings. We miss you, Mommy!
I laughed at it. A little doodle of our family, even Kutu. There were a few flowers on the border, probably because Couro loved flowers. Eventually, I opened and read it. A small message saying how much she missed her. They, actually. The handwriting was amazing and suspiciously resembled Gora's. They wished her well and prayed she was in Heaven. I reread it over and over before keeping it safely on my bedside. I ensured it was open and left it like that. Just to make sure she heard. The card helped me get up--I knew I still had my children with me.
After managing to get dressed, I went down and met Gora and Couro in the kitchen. Couro was on the table fiddling with a few pencils while Gora was at the counter mixing a batter together. No tears, no wailing, no pain. It was just us and our pancakes. We sat around the table, drizzling our food with syrup and silently munching. A calm, early morning breakfast, that was all.
That was all anything was. No one really talked. No one played games or tricks on each other. No yelling or arguing. We just went through the motions, smiling at each other and minding our own business. It was so, so quiet. It was always this quiet--we never really knew what to say to each other on this day. The silence used to be so deafening. It left me inside my head and with my own thoughts, something I used to hate. But after thinking about the same things over and over, I got used to it. I know what happened, I know I can't change it, and I know it'll have lasting effects on our small family. But, this was my life. It is my life. And it's okay.
Gora carried a bouquet of flowers and Couro brought another card. I drove us over to the graveyard. A silent car ride. The two of them sat still, watching the bushes on the side of the road as we passed them. Their only movements were bumps from the pavement. I gripped the steering wheel and drove on. Eventually, I parked and stepped out. They came out after me. I saw fear in Couro's face and took hold of her hand. This would be the first time I'm bringing her with me since the burial. Gora took her other hand, probably remembering when we first came here alone together. The little girl seemed to relax a little and squeezed my hand.
Looking around, I saw doves, blossoming trees and flowers. The sun shone down on the silvery stone graves, highlighting the loving words carved into all of them. It wasn't as gloomy as it was last year. It honestly looked like a peaceful place to rest in. I took a deep breath and led Gora and Couro over to Kutu's gravestone. Gathering around, the two of them dropped the gifts they'd brought with them. They fell on top of five years worth of flowers and cards. I took their hands and we all bowed as Couro said a short prayer.
In Loving Memory
Kutu Miske 
February 21, 1981 - October 13, 2015