Stray petals fluttered in the gust of wind that picked up. The leaves in the trees shifted, dancing with the gently breeze. The grass quivered and swayed with each breath that passed by. Clouds began to roll in. The once bright day had been fogged over by the chill of winter.

A chill of death.

Stone pedestals sat all around, line upon line of memorials, rolling up one side of the verdant knoll and back down the other. Each one engraved with a name, a date, a story. All these elaborate, beautiful carvings, and the people they were built for would never see them. All the people here were dead. But this was where those left behind came to seek them again. In the darkest corner of everyone’s mind, they all believe that this is the one place that one can communicate with the spirits of those long gone. Quite frankly, I’m no different.

My feet slipped on the already slick lawn, walking past row after row until I reached the top of the hill. The breeze played with my hair, flipping it around my face in some erratic dance. The air giggled in my ear, apparently quite content with simply musing my hair.

He used to do that a lot. . .

I shook my head, sliding the small bouquet of orange flowers under me arm before tucking my hair securely behind my ears. I reached behind my neck, pulling my hoodie over my head. Hopefully that would keep the wind from reminding me why I was here until I reached my destination.

I strolled down the mound, picking up speed as my feet tripped and skated between markers. He was nearby. I could almost sense him. He was the same place I left him.

My pace slowed, eyes trained on the stone cenotaph just in front of me. He sat there, nestled between two complete strangers. I lowered myself to the ground, watching the tribute intently, as if it would move and give him back to me.

Wishful thinking.

My gaze flowed down the markings, reading them for the millionth time.

Jacob Kilensgar

May 23, 1970- January 14, 2004

Beloved father and brother.

He leaves behind a legacy of love that will never be forgotten.

I let out the breath I didn’t realize I was holding. A small, penitent smile tugged at my lips. “You didn’t want that there.” I told the tombstone softly. “You always wanted it to say ‘I am slain . . . and the rest is silence.’” I blinked back the tear forming behind my eyelashes. “Hamlet. The only good play Shakespeare ever wrote.” I laughed, the sound lost among the rustling of the falling leaves. “I hate to tell you, but Mac Beth was better.” I leaned back, the sound of rustling plastic catching my attention. I jumped forward, lifting my hand. “Oh, I almost forgot.” I picked up the forgotten bouquet, setting it in front of the memorial. The flower sat silently, bright orange petals staring back at me. “Day lilies.” I told no one. “Your favorite.”

They were his favorite.

I coughed, leaning back again. “The business is doing well.” I reported. “Uncle Ben is doing a good job running it.” I shook my head. “He’s not as spirited about it as you were.”

Were.

I tried to drown out that annoying voice by talking more. “Anyway, he’s taking a lot of time off. Aunt Sarah is having a baby. Little baby Johnathon. He’s expected in May. Nice time of year.” I offered offhand. “Sunny and warm. Good time for a baby to be born.”

You were born in May.

I gulped down some cool air, trying to keep myself from crying. “I’m sorry I haven’t been by in a while. I’ve been really busy. Packing mostly, saying a few last minute good-byes.”

I said goodbye to you.

“I’m leaving. Today, actually. I got accepted to University of the Pacific. Just like you wanted.”

You liked it when you went.

“Good campus.” I rambled on, squeezing my eyes shut for a second. “Beautiful. I can see why you loved it so much.” I stopped, watching the wind toy with the treetops. “I talked to Uncle Ben about it when I got accepted. He told me I’m the reason you never finished. I needed taking care of. And you wouldn’t just leave me there.” I paused again, taking a deep breath. “You never told me why, you know. Why you adopted me when you did; why you adopted me period. You always said it didn’t matter. All that mattered was that you loved me.”

You did. Now you’re not here.

“Did you know my parents? Is that why you gave up all your dreams? Because my own parents wouldn’t give up theirs?” I looked at the tombstone with tears smearing the image in my eyes.

Like you can tell me now.

“I asked Uncle Ben. He said you never told him. So I asked Aunt Sarah. She didn’t know either. Guess you never told anyone why. Maybe . . .”

Maybe you didn’t know either.

I looked away from the stone. I couldn’t look at that writing anymore. It hurt my eyes. It hurt my head. It hurt my heart.

“I guess that’s what has me so confused these days. I can’t ask anyone anything. You never told them. You never told me. I remember asking you over and over again, especially when all the other kids brought their parents to Back-To-School Night. All you ever did was smile and say - ”

“Because I love you.”

“You know all my friends had parents. Mom and Dad.” I bit back a dry sob, wiping my eyes on the back of my hand. “I just realized I never called you that. I always kind of wanted to. But I was scared.” I closed my eyes again, shivering as the wind gushed past me. “I guess I was afraid that you would tell me that we weren’t family and I couldn’t call you that.” I shook my head, feeling my hoodie slip off the top of my hair. “Guess that was stupid, though. You wouldn’t have said that, would you?”

No, he wouldn’t have.

The watch on my wrist beeped, interrupting my tangent. I jolted and looked down. 4:25. I heaved a little sigh. “I guess it’s time.” I picked myself up, dusting off my pants. “I just came to say goodbye. I’ll be back to visit when I have a break. I’ll bring some more day lilies. I promise.” I stayed standing there, looking down at the name Jacob Kilensgar. Slowly, I brought my fingertips to my lips. I lowered them at the same sluggish pace, resting them just above the name. “I love you Dad.” I whispered before turning and walking back up the hill behind me.

I always will.

And for the first time that day, I really smiled.

A/N: I hope you liked it! I've had this sitting in my computer for about a month and a half, and I finally decided to post it. Please be gentle in your critisism. Remember, flames are not welcome, as usual. Thank you!