The wind is cold. Cold and biting. It’s strong too and the branches of the trees around me bend and creak as they fight against its force. I’m sitting on a smooth marble slab with words engraved on it, words I’m trying to read but when I look up I see him walking towards me.

He’s tall and slim, just like I remember. He has dark brown olive skin and bright brown eyes that sparkle sadly. He’s dressed plainly with a brown winter coat and an old black fedora. He has a light fuzzy scarf hanging around his neck haphazardly. In his gloved hands he holds a bouquet of flowers of various colors and types.

As he approaches he begins to stumble and tears well up in his eyes. The moment he reaches me, the bouquet falls out of his hands and silent tears roll down his cheeks in quick procession. He crumbles to the floor and his hands move to cover his eyes as he weeps uncontrollably, choking over his own tears. He doesn’t say anything but it doesn’t matter because can hear him loud and clear.

“Sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry”

The words are loud and harrowing. They seem to bounce off the trees and throw themselves back at me with even more pain and sorrow.

I slide down from my marble seat to the prickly grass below me and sit right in front of him. I gently place one of my ghostly hands on his cheek and try to gently wipe away his tears like I always used to do when he was a little boy but my hand can’t seem to touch his tears.

He slowly looks up at me but I know he’s not really looking at me. He’s looking at the gravestone behind me. He’s reading the name written there. He’s reading my name.

“Mom, I love you. I will always love you.”

Once again, his lips haven’t moved yet I hear his voice in my head, loud and clear.

“I love you, I’m sorry, I love you, I’m sorry, I love you, I’m sorry, I love you, I’m sorry.”

The words play over and over like two separate voices, fighting over who can be louder, becoming more painful and miserable each time they’re repeated.

I close my eyes and place a gentle kiss on his forehead. It pains me to know he can’t feel it. It hurts that he’ll never know that I’m here, right now with him, and that my death is not his fault and that I love him and I will always love him.