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it all inside, but I wasn’t ready to let it out. Not yet. 
    When the burial was over, everyone began to leave to meet at Grandpa’s lodge for food, drink, and whatever else they served at one of th ose things. I couldn’t help but wonder if there was a cookbook for the grieving.
    Soon it was just the five of us left by the gravesite: my uncle, cousins, Grandpa , and me. Uncle Mark herded everyone far enough away to give me a little privacy. I guess when you bury someone you love, it’s normal to take a last moment to talk to them. I just hoped they decided to answer me back.
    “Hey , Mom, Dad. It’s me. Bristol,” I started lamely. “Look, I don’t know what’s going on. Why haven’t I seen you? Why can’t I talk to you? I wish you would give me a sign. Or for that matter, just come say hello. I know it can be done. Guys? Hello?”
    I waited.
    “Crap,” I muttered. “Sorry. Bad language. I know how you hated that, Mom. Dad, not so much. I suppose I should try and watch it. I’ve got a couple of young guys in the house now. They seem nice, by the way,” I added. “I’ve decided I like my uncle and my cousins. And even their dogs. Jury’s still out on Grandpa. Just thought I’d let you know.
    “I love you , Mom and Dad,” I finally said. “Bye.”
    It took far less effort than I thought to walk away. My parents weren’t here. The dead don’t hang out in places like this. So why should I? If my parents wanted to find me, they knew where to look.
    I didn’t know what was worse, the idea of saying goodbye or the realization that my mother and father couldn’t be bothered with me even now. There was a cold, emptiness that gnawed at my heart, as I questioned something that no child ever should. Did my parents ever love me?
    I knew I needed to cry. I could feel it building within me. I felt like everyone was watching me, waiting for the dam to break, but I was still too angry at Mom and Dad to cry for them. I felt I should be overwhelmed with grief, but there was this great big ball of emptiness inside. Where were they? Did they not love me enough to even stop by one last time and say goodbye? Was I that unlovable?
    But when I looked into the faces of my new family, all I could see was love. I could only wonder how long it would last.
    “Dad,” Zack said. “Can we stop and see Mom before we go?”
    My uncle searched my face. “You ok ay with that?”
    I nodded. I was in no hurry to get to the lodge. 
    We only needed to walk a few feet away. I stared down at a grave marker, shaped like a giant heart, and read the words engraved on the face.
     
    Eve Blackburn
    Mother, wife, best friend
    We carry you in our hearts, every day
     
    She was only in her mid-thirties when she died. I could feel the emotion rolling off of my new family. Each of them felt the stab of loss in their own way. I watched them as they each stepped forward and said something private. Zack looked the most lost out of all of them.
    I approached him and put my arm around his tiny shoulders. “Hey, kiddo. You okay?”
    He sniffed and nodded. “I just wish I could remember what she sounded like.”
    Uncle Mark took his son’s hand and drew him closer. “We have some videos at home. We’ll have to dig ’em out.” 
    “You know, Zack,” Simon chimed in . “You and her have a lot in common. You look like her the most. And sound like her, too.”
    Stepping back a bit to give them their space as they had for me, I watched Uncle Mark put one arm over each son. Both boys leaned against him. It was both sad and beautiful.
    Then I felt it; a cold, dark stab of pain and despair. Guilt beyond anything I’ve ever felt before. Agony turned inward. I nearly fell from the weight of it.
    It wasn’t coming from my family. Slowly I turned, trying to find the person in such despair. It wasn’t hard. The remorse and shame were like a beacon. It only took me a moment to focus in on the source.
    He was standing only about a dozen feet away, but