“Happy birthday, Myra.” My mother cried. “I remembered it this time… These are your favorite flowers.” My father squatted before the grave and wiped my photo using his handkerchief. He was so gentle, as if he were afraid to wake me up. “Myra, I was wrong…” he whispered with a sob. “I shouldn’t have said that you were dilly-dallying… I shouldn’t have continued my journey… Please forgive me…”Mandy placed another small bouquet of white flowers, and Matthew placed his favorite toy car. The grass at the cemetery was rustled by the wind, and the sound it made sounded like a response or a sigh. Uncle Darren had rarely visited us since then. After that fight, their relationship took a turn for the worst. Even though they were still cordial on the surface, everyone knew that there was a permanent crack. My grandmother always sighed, “We used to be a tight-knit family, why did things turn this way…”Sometimes, when it was late at night, my mother would suddenly sit up in her bed a
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