He spoke nothing during the funeral. Clutching her picture tightly, he nodded at everyone, as if afraid he’d break apart if he stopped. During that first week, we took turns bringing over food and offered to spend the night, but he never asked. He just kept repeating, “I’m alright, kiddo.”
Despite his words, it was clear he was struggling. The emptiness in his eyes told a different story, one of loss and overwhelming grief. But he didn’t want anyone’s help. He preferred to carry the weight alone, just like always
AFTER GRANDMA PASSED, GRANDPA FOUND PEACE IN HIS OLD CABIN
Then, one day, he vanished.
No warning, no note. Just gone. The house was quieter, emptier, even though the silence had been heavy long before. I couldn’t help but wonder where he went, or if he’d even be coming back. The fear that I wouldn’t see him again settled in, and all I could do was wait.
