Epilogue Three
Ethan, sixty-three years old
“Hey, Sunshine.”
The memory bear, lovingly made from Lily’s favorite purple fleece blanket gifted to me by Sam and the kids, rests softly against my worn hands as I gently rock in the old wicker chair on the porch. The salt-laced air, a familiar comfort, drifts in from the beach.
“It’s your granddaughter Lily’s sweet sixteen today, so we’re back at the beach house.”
Maddy grew up to be a beautiful woman with a loving husband and three children of her own.
She named her firstborn Lily and took over Lily’s shop.
Maddy couldn’t bear to sell it, not after everything.
And neither could I. It felt like letting go of a piece of Lily, and now we’re here celebrating another Lily.
I suck in a breath, the salty air filling my lungs, a sharp sting at the back of my eyes. Lily’s grief jar… it did help us, eventually. Helped us grieve properly, in a healthy way. She was right. Together, we drew strength from one another. It brought us closer to Lily. To each other.
A small, sad smile touches my lips at the thought of how much Lily missed out on with our children.
Then there’s Jake. Jake became an Olympic swimmer. He married a pediatrician and had two children of his own. Lily would be so proud of him and the man he grew up to be.
The creak of the old screen door opening makes me pause, my rocking chair stilling.
“Dad?” Ollie says in his warm, familiar baritone.
He closes the door softly behind him, then settles into the worn armchair beside me. He’s grown up to be such a handsome man.
“I was telling your mom we’re celebrating Lily’s birthday today,” I tell him.
“It’s been a while, huh?” he asks, his eyes lingering on the bear in my lap.
I nod, tightening my hold. “Yes.”
A few years after Lily left us, years that felt like decades of simply existing, I met someone.
She was a nurse who moved into the home next door.
It was uncanny how much she resembled my Sunshine, not just in her appearance, but also in the certain warmth in her eyes, the quiet resilience in her smile, and her kindness that drew me in.
I gravitated toward her without even realizing it.
She’d bring over cookies, still warm from the oven, and offer to cook me dinner, almost like a silent offering of a new friendship. When I was hit with the flu, she was there, a steady presence, bringing soup and checking in on me daily. It was a comfort I hadn’t known since Lily.
Then, one day, she asked me to come over for a movie night. The kids joked that it was a date, but I dismissed it as two friends spending time together. One evening, we were watching a movie, and the quiet intimacy of the moment became too much for me.
We shared a passionate kiss.
I hadn’t touched a woman since Lily died.
Never had a desire to do so until that night.
It broke me because my heart only belonged to one person, and she was gone.
It was a betrayal to her and to all that we fought for.
To allow someone else’s hand to trace the lines of my face, to feel another’s lips on mine…
it felt like erasing Lily, diminishing all that we were.
The heavy weight of guilt lingered for far too long, and the feeling became overwhelming, knowing I kissed another woman and allowed someone else into our lives.
That shame made it difficult for me to have my daily conversations with Lily.
It was as if I were reliving the pain of cheating on her all over again.
But then my children sat me down and helped me understand I had no reason to feel guilty. Maddy looked me in the eyes and said, “Mom would never want you to feel alone. She loved you too much for that.”
Jake joined in, reassuring me, “If you find someone new, it doesn’t take away from the love you had for Mom. It just means there’s space in your heart for more love.”
While their words comforted me, I realized a different kind of truth had emerged. I had already been content, content to be there for my children and grandchildren. I didn’t need anything or anyone else.
Ollie breaks through my thoughts when he speaks.
“So, did you get a chance to tell her about me, or do I have to brag about myself?” He grins, a playful glint in his eyes, and starts to rock gently in his own chair.
I laugh. “Well, Lily,” I say, clutching the bear closer to me, “Ollie is the new fire chief.”
“I’m a bad-ass, Mom,” Ollie interjects, a proud chuckle escaping him.
I laugh harder, a little shake in my shoulders. “Yes, I guess you are, son. Your mother would be so proud of you.”
We sit quietly, the only sounds are the crash of waves and the distant shouts of our families. The sun dips lower, painting the sky in fiery oranges and soft purples.
“I wish she were here,” Ollie whispers.
“Me too, son. Me too.”
“Hey!” Sam calls out from the shoreline, her voice carrying over the waves. She treads through the soft sand, kicking it up around her ankles, until she’s on the steps, a little out of breath. “What are you all up to?”
“Talking to Mom,” Ollie says, gesturing at the bear.
Her eyes glisten, and she gives me a wobbly, heartfelt smile.
Sam took a significant step in her career by opening her own therapy practice, where she dedicates herself to providing emotional support to families who have lost someone to death.
Two years ago, Sam celebrated a beautiful wedding and began a new chapter with her husband, Logan.
Together, they decided not to have children but instead have focused on making a difference and traveling the world.
“What’s going on here?” Maddy’s voice rings out, followed by Jake and their children, as they join us on the porch, towels draped over their shoulders.
“Talking to Mom,” Ollie replies again.
Maddy and Jake’s eyes soften, glancing at the bear nestled in my arms, and they both offer quiet, knowing smiles.
Our world shattered the day Lily left us.
We clung to each other, trying to breathe through one unbearable moment after another.
I remembered the vow I made to her, promising that I would keep living for both of us, and that her light would never fade.
The only way I could manage to put one foot in front of the other was by honoring her memory.
Otherwise, I would have been swallowed whole by my overwhelming grief, breaking my promise.
“Wow,” Maddy breathes, pulling me away from my thoughts. “Is it just me, or did the sun suddenly get brighter?”
I lift my gaze to the sky, a soft smile playing on my lips despite the heaviness resting in my heart. I can almost feel her presence, my Sunshine, as if she’s watching over us from somewhere among the stars, just as she promised she would.
“I wonder what you’re doing in heaven, Lily. Is there a place to watch the sunset and sunrise? Are you baking? Are you older like me, or did time freeze and keep you at the same age you left us at?” A soft sigh escapes my lips as I lie in the bed we once shared.
“I suppose you’ll share those answers with me when I finally join you.” Holding the soft bear in my arms, I turn my gaze toward the window. A deep, gnawing pressure weighs down on my chest that feels as if my heart is breaking all over again.
“Even though life has been good with our family, there was always something missing since you left this earth.”
I hold the stuff animal tightly and let the tears flow, wishing Lily were here with us.
To create new memories together.
To see our children fall in love, to share in their joy, and her wisdom.
To hold our grandchildren in her arms.
To share countless sunsets and sunrises.
To feel the sand between our toes, the ocean breeze on our skin, and make love on the beach.
To grow old together.
To share our final moments.... together.
Forever.
Maddy
An uneasy feeling wakes me from a deep sleep like a thief in the night.
I blink, trying to clear the lingering fog. I turn my head to see James, my husband, still dead to the world, snoring softly on his back.
Sunlight, bright and cheerful, streams through the window. It makes me smile, a bittersweet pang in my chest, thinking about how Mom always loved a sunny morning.
I shimmy out from under the covers, swinging my legs over the side of the bed. My feet hit the cool floor with a thud. I pad into the bathroom, splashing cold water on my face, brushing my teeth, and twisting my hair into a messy bun.
Grabbing my comfy robe from behind the door, I shrug it on and step out of the room. Everyone else seems to be sleeping, which means it is the perfect time to get breakfast going without a stampede.
But as I enter the hallway, Ollie and Jake emerge from their rooms, looking as rumpled and disoriented as I feel.
“Morning,” I say.
Ollie runs both hands through his messy hair, making it stand up even more. “Hey. Did… did you wake up with a weird feeling?” he asks.
Jake turns to him, a flicker of surprise in his eyes. “Yeah, actually I did.” Then he looks at me. “You too?”
I nod, a sick feeling growing in the pit of my stomach.
As if our minds are linked, our eyes, in perfect unison, drift down the hall to Mom and Dad’s room.
Without a word, I push past my brothers, my heart hammering, and throw the door open. The moment I step inside, I know. It feels the exact same heavy emptiness that had been in the air the day Mom died.
“Oh, no,” I whisper, hugging myself tightly, a shiver running through me.
Jake and Ollie rush past me to the bedside. And that’s when I know Daddy is gone.
“Dad?” Jake’s voice is a ragged whisper as he gently shakes Dad’s shoulder. Nothing. Only stillness.
I walk closer, my legs feeling like cement, and my breath hitches. He cradles the purple bear against his chest. He looks so peaceful, almost as if he decided it was time.
“No, he’s not gone,” Ollie chokes out, his voice cracking, as he fumbles for Dad’s wrist, searching for a pulse. His shoulders slump, and he slowly drops his head. When his red-rimmed eyes lift to mine, I already know the answer.
“He’s gone,” I confirm.
Jake kneels beside the bed, carefully taking Dad’s hand in his. “It’s okay, Dad. You and Mom are together now. Take care of each other.” He swallows hard, a sob catching in his throat. “We’re going to be okay, and that’s because of you. Thank you, Dad, for being the best father. I love you.”
He buries his face in the mattress beside Dad, his body shaking with silent sobs.
Ollie leans over, pressing a soft kiss on Dad’s forehead. “Thank you for everything, Dad. For being my father, for stepping up. I love you.”
I join my brothers, my own vision blurring, and press a kiss to Daddy’s head. “It’s okay,” I whisper, my voice hoarse. He’s exactly where he wants to be.
“Bye, Daddy,” I murmur, gently patting his cheek. So cold. Like ice.
I look up at the sunny sky outside the window. “Take care of him, Mom.”