Mother's day ([community profile] justprompts: The Saints are coming)

May. 12th, 2008 01:00 am
hecalledmeivy: (Serene)
[personal profile] hecalledmeivy

But the shadows still remain since your descent,
your descent.

Sometimes, if they happened to be near, she visited Dana's grave on this day. Part of her knew all the ways deceased were honored, over millenia. Part of her knew all the reasons people who committed suicide were not regarded as worthy of the honors. Part of her knew that maybe her mother had been terribly unfair to her, and didn't deserve the honor.

That didn't make an excuse to fail to recognize that this person had existed (in a way, still did, in her head).

And that this person had given her life.

They didn't wander that far this year. She still avoided moving anywhere that wasn't directly related to her obligations, out of their secure place.

But she still chose a bouquet for her.

It is good. I still hate you.

'I know. I don't hate you.'

And she didn't. It wouldn't change anything. And the more she thought, the more she realized that hating would make her vulnerable.

So would loving, the dry voice of the Archive remarked.

'But friendship got me out of there.'

Acknowledged. Still, don't rely on it too much.

Instead of answering, Ivy smelled the hyacinths.

Her mother's awareness would never change her attitude. Would never stop hating her. Dana wasn't alive, to change. No matter how she tried, that reply would never come.

That didn't make honoring her mother unnecessary. It was a ritual for the living, not for the dead.
It was an attempt to anchor herself away from the pain that was, even after all the months, still fresh. Having a resident awareness with perfect recall wasn't helping, in cases like these.

But she had to move on.

She wondered if they'd let Kincaid stay close, very close if she tried to have her hair bobbed. She didn't feel comfortable thinking of having her hair cut, but it was starting to get into her eyes.

Dana had loved having her hair styled.

'Well, I'm not Dana, am I?'

Can't afford anger.

'Can't help it.'

Try, at least.

'Shut up.'

And you begin to understand.
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