A small letter. Feedback would be nice.
The gardener usually trimmed the bushes every Wednesday, but since he was going to be out of town all that week he would trim them Sunday night. The gardener pushed his hair back nervously, thinking of his wife's cancer. He felt horrible. He wasn't there for her last chemo, and after seeing her after the chemo, he promised himself that he would be there for her.
The graveyard always brought bad thoughts to him. Would he be tending the flowers around her grave? He blinked back tears at the thought. No, that would never happen, he told himself. Karen's a fighter. She'll beat the cancer.
He sighed and started trimming the bushes. He looked at the graves. So many people are buried here, he thought. Why did they all die? He shook his head to clear the thoughts. He went back to trimming the bushes.
As he tended the flowers around the graveyard, his eye caught onto a cluster of flowers. There were growing around a gravestone. He sighed heavily. He'd have to tend those too. Why do these mourners always make it harder on him? He limped to the flowers and began to cut the weeds.
There was a peice of paper beside the grave. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion. What did someone leave behind from the funeral?
It was folded in the way that his teenage daughter folded her notes. He struggled and finally (after a few rips) opened it. He told himself it was just to return this to the owner, but curiousity won over as he read the note.
What he found shocked him.
Dear Lucy,
How are you today? Oh wait, I forgot, you're DEAD!!! I bet it's a surprise to see me at your funeral, dressed up in my nice suit, mourning over you. The last time I saw you, you were screaming at me, telling me to go to Hell. Karma always come back at you.
I just want to tell you: I forgive you. I forgive you for everything you did. Your son will be fine with me. He will know everything about you: your kindness, your sweetness, and your love. He looks like you: absolutely beautiful. He has your eyes and face. I will make sure that monter doesn't touch him.
I am surprised you put me in your letter. Why the hell did you even think that it'd be alright to give me your son?! That is selfish! We weren't even speaking!
I'm sorry. I'm not mad, I'm just sad. Your parents are sad. So are all your friends. We all miss you and want you to come back I don't understand. Why Lucy, why?
I love you and will always love you always. I can't wait to see you up in Heaven.
The gardener looks at the gravestone. It read: Lucy Griffenth 1993-2010. He set the letter back down and went back to his duties.
