Proud?

I wrote this to cover a bit of my absence for the past couple of weeks (and also for the smidge of an absence to come). I'll be moving soon, and settling into a new store, possibly a new position (promotion) if all works out, so yay! Hoping to definitely be around more once the dust settles.

She settled the cowl of her jacket onto her shoulders as she approached the monument housing the remains of her parents, side by side. Staring at the monument, she wondered what she should say, if anything at all. It seemed rather odd to try to talk to the dead as though there was anything they could say back. Was she to hold a conversation with a marbled wall, the words slightly echoing throughout the family’s memorial?

She opted not to visit often after the funeral because… why? Things had been settled, new information was learned and she was really nowhere closer to the truth than when it was spelled out in front of her in plain Elven writing. Closure was hard to come by and the last communication from her father was less than forthcoming with where to look for answers. She had no idea what she was even looking for, or even if she should be looking. As far as Elanthia was concerned, nothing had really changed, and so few would know the truth of her heritage. Only those she deemed close enough to call a true friend… and the occasional obligatory life-shattering confession to a near stranger after five too many glasses of wine. She winced as she thought about that. No matter.

The time had come, though, to have a moment with the dead, to speak of things that happened since her last journey to the graves. It was a ridiculous practice, really, but oddly cathartic. It never changed what she said or how it was received, but it did offer her a sense of peace, her concerns voiced as she considered the words, often coming to a conclusion she would not have before.

Her face scrunched a bit as she adjusted the sash across her blouse, the weight of her awards shifting it out of position. Instinctively, she thumbed one of them, smudging it slightly as she gazed up, her mind searching for what to say, what to do. Creating things out of air with a song was so easy… trying to pull words from it was much harder. After a moment’s pause, and several failed starts, she began to mumble anything that came to her lips.

“Mother… Father… Well, I’m here.” She brought her forehead down into her palm, thinking how stupid this all seemed. Exhaling, she continued, “It’s been a bit since I saw either of you, talked to… either of you. Last you… last you saw of me, well… I was quite a mess, wasn’t I? I still am, but I guess I’m getting better at hiding it.” She managed a half-hearted grin.

“That’s all that was expected, wasn’t it? That I hide my failures and do what I could to make the family proud, right? Well… you would be proud of me now, I think. I’ve done it. It took several years of being in the Reserves and I’ve done what I couldn’t even do during my 100 year service. Everyone… believed in me… which, I don’t know… it feels… off,” her face scrunched again as she realized what she was saying. “I guess I was always the one who shied away from the responsibility. It’s really scary, all things considered… knowing what you do could mean the life or death of those in your bandon. It’s unsettling, and I’m terrified I’m going to fail. It’s why I always avoided this sort of thing… I never wanted to fail… either of you and shame everyone simply by association.”

By this point, her bottom lip started quivering and tears made their slow crawl down her cheeks. “I wish you could have seen it, Mother… the night I was given the awards. It was… surprising. So many others deserved it more than I did, but I guess my fear of failing did something right… And when I was promoted… I just… it was… I can’t even describe it. I wish you had been there, Father. Would you have been proud of me, then? Would you have welcomed me back home, then?” Her voice cracked as she paused, making sure no one could hear her as she looked around. She took a deep breath, wiping roughly at the tears, causing her alabaster skin to pinken.

“There’s other stuff I could talk about… but, I guess this was the only thing I cared to, all things considered. Anything else is… frivolous, I guess… and Father did always have an issue with frivolity.” Her brow furrowed somewhat. “I’m becoming who you had always hoped I would be, Father… a soldier, a leader. I just… wish you had been there… and that it hadn’t been too late for you to see it.”

She stood there in silence, staring once more at the monument, questioning why she even came. Catharsis was not easy to come by, even now, and she just shook her head as she realized the weight remained on her shoulders. Stepping forward, she placed two ivory roses, snipped from her mother’s garden, at the base of the marble structure before turning away and preparing for her return to the Fortress.

Originally posted 5/23/17 on Gemstone IV Official Ta'Vaalor Folder.