I thought going to my father's grave would help me find peace with the past. However, seeing a picture of myself on a tombstone nearby gave me a scary feeling. I had no idea that this surprising finding would reveal a life-changing truth about my mother.It has been two years since my father passed away from cancer. It feels like a long time filled with sadness. I remember clearly the day we found out he had advanced lung cancer. It felt like everything stopped, and we were stuck in a never-ending nightmare. Even though the doctors began treatment right away, we all felt like we were not going to win the fight. Father fought bravely, but cancer won in the end. I found out about his death when my mom called me at home in the city. Her usually strong voice broke as she shared the news. "Penny... he's not here anymore." I remember that moment as a mix of crying and hurriedly packing things.
My husband, Andrew, took us to my mom's house, and I kept waiting for my dad to come out of the house and greet us warmly. But that never occurred.At the funeral, I felt very distant, like I was watching myself from far away, crying as the casket was being buried. It felt like a piece of me was buried with him. People believe that time can help heal emotional pain, but the sadness of losing my father still feels very strong. Two years have passed, but it still feels as if I got that terrible phone call from Mom just yesterday. At first, I could barely do anything. Every night, I would cry before falling asleep, remembering moments with my dad like teaching me how to ride a bike, giving me extra ice cream, and being happy at my college graduation. The sadness was so strong that I started to doubt everything. Why did this happen to us? Was I destined to be the person with the worst luck in the world? I couldn't go back to our town because seeing familiar faces and places there made me think of Dad. I focused on work to try to forget about my sadness by keeping busy with spreadsheets and meetings. My mom began coming to see me instead, and I felt better not having to deal with the difficult memories. Lately, I started feeling guilty. I realized I had to face the memories I had been ignoring. Last week, Andrew and I drove back home, feeling more anxious as we recognized familiar places along the way.First, we went to the graveyard. Each time I moved closer to my father's burial site, it felt harder than before. When I finally got there, my knees buckled. I was sitting down, running my finger over his name on the hard rock while tears fell from my eyes. Lost in thoughts about the past and things I wish I had done differently, Andrew's soft touch brought me back to the present moment. "Penny, look that way," he whispered. I looked at another gravestone a short distance away and felt scared. My name was written on it: Forever in Our Hearts, Penelope. The picture displayed me when I was a young girl, smiling like I knew everything. I looked at the gravestone, but I couldn't understand what I was looking at. This wasn't a bad dream - I was fully awake, and this tomb was actually there. Trembling, I phoned my mother. She picked up the phone right away. "Mom, I'm at the graveyard, and there's..." There is a tomb with my name on it. "What's happening?"After a moment of silence, Mom responded in a strangely calm voice, "I didn't think you would return to see it." "What are you trying to say?" I inquired, feeling more and more confused. "After your dad died, I felt like I had lost both of you." You stopped coming by, you stopped phoning... "I needed something to grieve." She stopped for a moment and then said, "I purchased the piece of land next to your father's and had the gravestone made." "It was the only way I could deal with it." I felt both angry and sad. But something didn't make sense. Why didn't she bring this up when she visited? Why act like everything was okay? Then, I realized - she often comes to see me, she is always concerned about my health, and she keeps telling me to come back home. She wasn't only sad; she was getting ready for something different. I felt a shiver as I remembered the pills she had given me the previous year. Was she trying to...?I was looking for solutions. "I'll be there soon, Mom," I said, ending the call quickly. While we were going to her place, I noticed that the streets where I used to have good memories now made me feel scared. When we got there, Mom welcomed me with a smile, like she knew we were coming. Inside the house, everything looked familiar to me, except for a small altar with my picture, candles, and new flowers. I felt sick to my stomach. "Mom, we need to put an end to this," I said, feeling nervous. "Why did you do that?" "I couldn't allow you to abandon me like your dad did," she answered. "I had to stay near you." This was the only way I knew how to do it. It was evident that this was more than just sadness—it was an intense focus. I knew she wouldn't allow me to live my life if I didn't get involved. I proposed that she come closer to us so we could see each other every day. She wasn't sure at first, but in the end, she said yes. A week later, we saw the cemetery workers take away the stone with my name on it, and I assisted Mom in taking down the special place she had for me in her living room.The change has been hard, but I'm thankful I went to see my father's grave that day. It helped me discover the unusual world where Mom had been, and now, for the first time in a long time, it seems like we are making progress. We will always remember Dad, but now his memory gives us strength instead of sadness.
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