The Twelve Days of Stella (Part 9)

The ninth installment in the Twelve Days of Stella, in which Stella hugs her dad. If you missed the previous installments, here are the links:

• The Twelve Days of Stella (Part 1)
• The Twelve Days of Stella (Part 2)
• The Twelve Days of Stella (Part 3)
• The Twelve Days of Stella (Part 4)
• The Twelve Days of Stella (Part 5)
• The Twelve Days of Stella (Part 6)
• The Twelve Days of Stella (Part 7)
• The Twelve Days of Stella (Part 8)
  

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Without saying a word, Stella stepped over to her father and slipped her arms around his waist. His arms came around her shoulders, wrapping her in a warm, safe place.

“I’m so sorry, Daddy,” she said, ignoring her tears. “I can’t believe I forgot what today was.”

“It’s all right,” he replied, hugging her tight before leaning back. “Your mother would not want us spending our days, our years mourning her. She was too much of a vibrant, vivacious woman to wish us anchored to the past.”

Stella forced a watery smile. “I know.” An awkward laugh bubbled out. “She would probably want us to forget the date altogether.”

“Doubtless,” he agreed. “But she would appreciate the fact that we will not.”

For several long moments, they stood there—hand-in-hand—gazing at the simple white headstone and lost in their own memories. Stella’s focused on painting the mural. If she closed her eyes, she could imagine herself sitting on the floor of her room, surrounded by pots of paint laid out on a spatter-covered dropcloth. Her mother would paint the basic shape and then let Stella paint in the details.

Even when it looked wretched, she never went back and corrected Stella’s work.

“I’ve been thinking,” she said before she realized what she was going to say. “I’d like to start painting again.”

His hand squeezed hers tighter. “I think that is a marvelous idea.”

She swallowed over the tightness in her throat. “Are her art supplies still—“

“In a box in the basement. Yes, of course.” He gave her one of his knowing smiles. “I always hoped you would resume painting one day. You loved it so much.”

“I did, didn’t I?”

Finally, she felt the melancholy that had plagued her all day begin to lift. It should feel odd that her mood would lighten while she attended her mother’s grave, but it didn’t. Not when it would make her mother smile.

Stella smiled, too.

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Tune in tomorrow for the next installment. [Part 10]

Hugs,
TLC