It did not rain at their funeral. I was always told it did—that the elements would mourn the loss with us. But not at theirs.

The sun shined, the birds sang, and not a cloud was in the sky. I felt betrayed. How could the world be so cruel? It kept right on spinning, just as I thought my heart would break.

I couldn't enjoy the sunshine again.

They were buried in a cardboard box. We could not afford anything more. I did not watch as they were lowered into the ground. I stayed back from the small gathering—I did not want to see. I did not want to picture their small bodies, frail and weak, never to take a first breath. Never to live in this cold world, and suffer as I have. Perhaps it is for the best…but I do not look at the sun.

The next day it rained, and I sat by their grave and wept. I did not come home that night, and I will never forget the raw pain I felt, nor the soothing, numbing darkness, that cared not what I did.

I began to love the darkness. I would sit out in the rain, and wallow in the gloom of the overcast sky. I would imagine the thunder was my agonized voice crying out for vengeance upon the cruel world that had taken them from me. The rain was my tears…and I wept much.

I avoided people. I did not want to see them, and they would not want to see me. Their words were insincere and hollow. They could never feel as I did. They could never understand.

I shrank from mirrors and reflections. I did not want to see my face and the pain in my eyes. I could feel it, I did not need to behold it.

I cowered from the sun, and would curse it in the darkness of my closet. It became the cause of my pain, and though I grew to hate it, I feared it more.

I never thought I could love something so much. I never thought there could be such hurt in the world. I never thought I could still live with all that weight crushing my soul to the ground. I wanted to die, and end the pain.

I vowed to never look at another human being. Never. They were as miserable as I was, though they tried to hide it and pretend. They were all liars. And before the funeral, I had been too.

*****

The first time I saw him, I was out in the rain, crying and shivering, hoping to escape the memory—but it stayed with me.

He was also in the rain, ignoring the shelter of the trees, and weeping, as I was. Yet he noticed me, and stood, letting the rain wash away his tears. He beckoned to me, and I came, not knowing why, only feeling that he knew what I felt. He took my arm and looked into my eyes, and I laid my pain before him. He studied it a moment, and I knew he understood. I sobbed and he held me close, and I felt protected and comforted—a peace I had never known before.

He never spoke, only held me, and then the rain stopped and he released me. The clouds were about to make way for the sun, and I wanted to run away into the darkness again, but he gripped me, and smiled. It was the first smile I had seen since the funeral, and it cleansed my soul, wiping it free of hurt and guilt and suffering and sin.

Then he kissed my forehead, and stepped away, dissolving back into the trees as if he had never been there. I watched until he disappeared, and then I looked up at the sky. The clouds were dissipating, and the sun was just peeking through the gloom. The robins began to stir, and soon the birds were singing all around me.

I noticed the daisies growing at my feet, and I picked one and laid it on their grave. The solitary flower looked alone and weary, until the sun burst forth, and cast it's rays upon the white petals. Then it shone like a star, and seemed to brighten the world.

It always seemed more than just a flower after that. I planted daisies in my garden. They may not be as elegant as roses, or unique as lilies, but they're a special flower that stands for something—for comfort, for peace, for eternity.

Now, the sun is my friend, and the memory of the funeral is but a cherished thought. I know I will see them again, but they will be alive, and we will feel a joy never experienced. There will be laughter, and hope, and the promises of happiness…and the sun will shine down upon us.