With My Own Wings

by Selena   

It is autumn and the golden leaves swirl around me as I stand on a soft carpet of emptiness, staring down sadly at the woman that once was a part of my life. Tightly grasped in mine, my daughter’s hand slightly trembles. Her name is Keliane and she is a true portrait of her mother: soft blue eyes and light, untameable honey-coloured hair that flies around her sweet, five-year-old face like an angel’s halo.

The sun is setting and the tall, mysterious trees cast dark shadows on the stone-hewed tomb, but her name seems to glow faintly in the fading light of twilight. She had always been important and close to me, but until that special and unbelievable day, I hadn’t realised so. That day had been the third of March; the sky was blue and clear, it was an ideal time to rush through the soft oblivion that matched the colour of her eyes in our small, three seater aeroplane. The wind was slow and stroked our faces as we raced the birds through the air and Keliane was laughing with joy, her arms tightly wrapped around her mother. She had stood up and had held our daughter’s hand in hers, screaming out happily as I set the plane to land. And then it happened. At a couple of feet from the floor, she toppled over the edge and hardly fell to the floor, barely leaving us the time to react. Keliane didn’t cry out until her mother’s eyes stopped rolling with fear and pain. I didn’t say anything to comfort her, since I had never been taught to: it wasn’t my domain. I stared out into oblivion, my eyes barely focusing as tears came to them and pain blurred all my senses. I sank to my knees, next to her lifeless form and held her hand, stroking it to convince myself she was still there…

But she wasn’t. And she never would be anymore. I didn’t realise what was happening when the workmen slowly sank her coffin down into the moist earth of the forest near our hometown; it was her favourite spot and she used to look over the sea from there. There was a bluff nearby, dominating the turquoise ocean; all three of us would eat lunch over there, watching the lonely seagulls riding the waves, all munching on the wonderful sandwiches she used to make.

All this is only memories, now. We tried to go on with our lives, to fly with our own wings; Keliane is now five, as I said earlier on and as it is difficult for me, I can’t imagine how it is for her.

We both look down at the woman who once was our alter ego, tears streaming down our cheeks gone frigid by the cool breeze; but from the stone glows a light that warms up our hearts. I sigh. I feel my daughter’s hand tugging on mine and I look down at her. She has the eyes of her mother. She looks at me expectantly.

"Daddy," she says, "we’ve got to go home now."

I sigh yet again and force a smile for my little angel.

"You are right, sweetheart. Go on ahead, I have to do something."

"Of course."

She nods knowingly and runs up the little path that leads to our front door. Slowly, from the bottom of a large tree, I pick up a bunch of orchids freshly picked and lay them down on her tomb.

Then I walk away, without reading the inscription again, as I always used to.

SHERA HIGHWIND

WITH ALL THE LOVE FROM HER HUSBAND AND DAUGHTER

THE SKIES HAVE LOST THEIR ONLY STAR.

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