The church was hauntingly reclusive. The sun’s light penetrated the stained glass and graced it with vivid color. It stole your attention at the moment you walked in, and as you looked at the lights and pictures with awe, you felt guilty. It was a dreadful contrast to the sea of black that breathed hesitantly, concentrating intensely on the absence of noise and the absence of a soul.

Soon enough a voice was amplified and sliced the silence vengefully. All eyes focused on the figure, partly curtained by shadows but still slightly exposed by the sun’s bullying.

“My boy, Andy, was an astounding man. Sometimes I hope that that means I was a good mother. I hope that proves I didn’t fail,” the voice was frail and melancholy and engendered a sense of sorrow and pity among everyone present. “From the early years of his childhood to the day he passed away, he was always concerned about others. ‘Treat others the way you want to be treated,’ he’d remind me with eyes filled with genuine hope. He grew up to become a surgeon, and a fantastic one at that. Though he knew that he saved lives on that operating table daily, he didn’t know that he continuously saved my life every day. I have to admit that I wasn’t the most pleasant human being in his family. I’ve made my unfortunate mistakes, and I would give anything to go back in time and fix them. But, I know that if is listening right now, he’s saying, ‘Have no regrets, Momma, have no regrets.’”

The elderly woman raised her tiny head to the sky and spoke with a desperate hopelessness now. “Andrew, I didn’t tell you this enough when you were alive, but I love you. I love you so much, I always have, and I always will.” She was sobbing between words, tears relentlessly escaping her empty eyes. “Please don’t leave me.”

“Ally,” spoke a familiar voice softly. “Ally, dear, I want to talk to you.” Allyson glanced down at the sad old lady, her own expression sullen and hollow. Her blue eyes seemed to be faded. “We found this in Andy’s house,” she said, taking Ally’s hand and opening her fist. She dropped a golden object onto her palm. She examined it, realizing it was a ring. There were five diamonds in a line, the one in the middle, looking satisfied at its precedence, was noticeably larger than the rest. It was beautiful.

“He must have been planning on proposing. He really loved you.”

It was true that during the funeral Ally had remained the most composed of everyone. Some may have claimed she was heartless by her lack of emotion. Her appearance was one of apathy; her disposition was one of obscure desolation. Her love for the man was overwhelming, but she had not fully comprehended the idea that his hands would never touch her flesh again; that his smile would never light up another room; that his despair would never submerge her into depression; that his embrace wouldn’t rescue her from an inevitable breakdown. They were two parts to one vibrant happiness. Now what was left was a pathetic, proud, and severely deficient pseudo-strength that Allyson begged herself to try and latch on to. This shield, however, was easily demolished with his mother’s words. The woman herself was a persistent reminder of his previous existence, her wrinkles and bruises all symbolizing something in her life relating to her beloved son, the son that had abandoned his love. He would never return, and neither would happiness. When happiness was gone, rage took its place.

The ring fit her finger perfectly. She sat at her dining room table in her lackluster apartment, her gaze drifting from the ring to the floor with the now wilted daisy pedals. The room had lost its beauty and vigor, resembling the loss of something grand.

“I do,” she asserted to nothing. “I DO,” she demanded to no one. “I REALLY DO,” she cried to everything. It was from this point on that she could not stop crying. Her eyes never ceased producing tears. She purposely fell onto the floor, her body, weak with emotional pain and anguish, collapsed into the dead flowers. A deep sleep followed, and a dream about a playground. There were teenagers at the scene with spray paint. They vandalized and vandalized until the sun rose and her moist cheeks were finally dry.