I Promised.

The snow tumbles across the barren landscape, the last fruitless efforts to keep everyone indoors, except for one dark figure. A man stands alone. His motions are hazy, like the snow, as if they came from another person. They take monumental effort. He does his best to concentrate.

Bends from the cold, unseen enemy and painfully clunks a shovel into the ground, with little success. Though the man has been digging for several minutes, the result of his efforts is minimal. Cursing. Crying. Continuing. Always continuing. Shakes his head to remove the flying snow from his eyes and to remind himself of the importance. He has to stay. She had to go. Tears are frozen on his cheeks, his mouth a determined semblance of a line. Fingers that feel foreign are dirty and raw. The man reaches into his pocket to retrieve a small box, only slightly longer than his hand. It has been too long. He has to get inside. Just another minute to see her smiling face. One last reminder. When he opens his eyes he only sees the swirling snow, revealing the angry wind. Deep breath in.

And out...

His emotions align with the fierceness of the snow. But it’s time, right? Time to go inside. Now. Places the box in the too-shallow hole, covering it with sprinkles of loose dirt from the nearby flowerbed, newly planted after the accident.

Recalls another death...

Sirens and waves both crashing in chaotic unison on the beach, near the abandoned vehicle. It was cold, like this snow. Emotion crushes his heart. Remembering. Always remembering. His wife grinning at him, holding up a tiny bunny, the ears not even as long as his fingers. She put her nose next to the bunny’s nose. Then next to his. A kiss to convince. He blocks out the snow and imagines that glorious, gloomy day. The sky was dark, but her eyes were radiant. They were radiant. Before. He will never see those eyes again.

It will have to wait until the thaw…

Snow snaps the man to reality. Falls to his knees, ignoring the sharp pangs of cold. Walks up to the house dejectedly, a lone figure melding into the looming shadow of the house. Snow consuming him, just for that moment. He takes another step. Out of the storm and into the kitchen. Looks around at the sharp familiarity. Takes off his shoes. They rest right next to each other, a few sizes smaller than his, never to be used again. He nearly abandons his resolve, tears filling his eyes. A paper on the table next to a framed woman’s head. Touches the edge of the frame. On the paper is a child’s drawing, a picture of a bunny, and a child’s short, handwritten account on how he saved his baby bunny from the snow—He would take care of it forever! —with lots of exclamation points at the end. Now both realities are gone. Two lost stories. Two forevers cut short.

Trudges up the stairs. Steps into a room filled with sailboats and ocean dreams. The man’s stocking feet matches his son’s, two fuzzy feet dangling off the bed, no usual bounce to be found. The little boy’s tears pierce the man’s heart. Identical pools of loss, matching his own grief. Focuses on the boy’s chocolate brown eyes, so much like his mother’s. The boy’s scruffy head and tear-stained face looks up at his father.

Is he gone?

Closes his eyes, avoiding the mirror of distress in his son’s face. Hangs his head. The little hands slip into the big ones.

I promised I would take care of him.

The father leans over to hug his son.

Me, too. You are my forever now.

Author’s note: I originally wrote this as a graphic story. I’ve included the draft of it below.