Bella walked toward her high school, her bag sagging on her shoulders. Around her, the black angus cows grazed silently, and the wind gently rustled the scattered oak leaves. The autumn sky had a red glow. The neighbors bustled around their yards, feeding their hungry animals. However, Bella’s troubled mind retraced the events of the last few months, how her life had spiraled out of control.

Six months ago, her mom had been diagnosed with stage four inflammatory breast cancer. The diagnosis had come so suddenly. The days had been filled with hectic hospital visits and the nights with sleepless agony. Bella and her dad had watched together in horror as her mom’s condition had deteriorated from bad to worse. They had tried to cope with the pain every day, but it had been so hard. She still remembered the day when the doctors had told them that Bella and her dad had only a week left with her. They had tried their best to cure her, and now they would try their best to keep her comfortable until… Bella couldn’t stop the tears at her helpless predicament. She had desperately wished for time to stop--just one more birthday together, just one more Christmas together. The next week had been the living manifestation of an evil omen, of the impending doom of her mom’s death, and her time with her mom had felt ethereal, almost. Bella and her dad had been there with her mom during her last moments, when the lights seemed to escape her mom’s eyes…

Bella’s arrival at the school interrupted her thoughts. She turned around to wave good-bye to her mom, but suddenly stopped herself. Her mom would always drop her off at Stuyvesant High School in lower Manhattan. There were so many things that she had taken for granted about her mom. Here everything moved in slow motion around her. Bella absent-mindedly unpacked her books and made a passive attempt to concentrate as her history teacher droned on about the Boston Tea Party and the American Revolution. At lunch, there was a cafeteria, similar to the one at her old school. However, many students preferred to take their lunch outside to eat under the trees. Bella joined her new friends outside, but they didn't know her mother, causing Bella to feel that she couldn't talk to her new friends about her pain. Plodding her way around the school, she remembered the halls lined with students at her old school, the excitement of being in the middle of the capital of the world. Here, instead of her mom eagerly waiting to pick her up and listening to Bella’s narration of the day, only fields and animals awaited her outside.

As she walked home from school that day, amid the peach trees and blueberry bushes, Bella felt that her life had devolved into simply going through the motions of living. After her mom had passed away, Bella’s life had not been the same. Her dad had decided to move back to her mom’s hometown, a small farming town in Georgia, away from the bustle of life in Manhattan. He had said that they needed a change, and grandma’s house had been empty since her death a year ago. Furthermore, Bella’s mom had always dreamed about moving there when she retired. Despite all the reasons Bella’s dad gave for moving, Bella saw the pain in his eyes every day. They seemed to wander aimlessly as if he was searching for mom. He no longer laughed or talked much. He, too, was grieving. Still, Bella resented leaving; a part of her soul was being ripped out as she was leaving the city and apartment where she had made all the memories with her mom. She remembered the time she spent with her mom in the kitchen, cooking, laughing, and sharing stories, going to see Broadway shows, and eating food at that Dim Sum place in Chinatown. Bella felt lonely now, without her mom, without someone who was always there for her and understood her. Suddenly, the peals of laughter and witty jokes of her mom had been replaced by her dad’s quiet, caring conversations. These days, Bella’s ears ached to hear her mother’s good morning call, and Bella’s body yearned for a warm embrace from her mom. There were so many things that she had never been able to tell her mom. They had always argued about her friends, her choice of clothes, and so many other things that seemed so trivial now. Bella wished she could take back some of the things she said during these fights.

A slight drizzle began to fall, and she thought of how her mom used to hum softly when the rain fell. A tear rolled down Bella’s cheek as she continued toward the house. Bella’s mom used to tell her how she loved the smell of rain, how she loved to run home through the downpour, and how she waited for the rainbow afterwards. Instinctively, almost, Bella took off down the trail towards their home, the same house that her mother had grown up in, and watched as a huge rainbow encompassed the sky.

Later in the day, Bella wandered about the house. Bella and her dad had just moved there a few weeks ago, and the house still felt new to Bella. Yet, at the same time, it felt familiar to her, as every nook and cranny of the house had been weaved into her mother’s stories. She touched the piano keys and saw her mother playing Debussy’s Claire de Lune. Immediately, Bella sat down and began playing, letting her emotions shine through the piece, just like her mom would have done. She smiled, fondly picturing the Christmas tree in the living room that had tipped over when her mom’s cat had tried to take a nap in it. Instinctively, Bella, lost in her memory, lunged forward to catch the “tree”, laughed, shook her head, and turned towards the window. Here, she saw the mighty oak trees, just like her mom had described to her, and the old hickory table, where Bella’s mom and her siblings had carved their initials, which Bella ran her fingers over. Bella glanced at her phone and noted that it was already 6 o’clock. So, she hurried into the kitchen to cook. Bella’s mom had vividly described to her the kitchen filled with the aroma of baked chicken and cinnamon buns. In this space, more than just recipes had been passed between mother and daughter, a tradition Bella’s mom had upheld back in Manhattan. Bella was able to move around the kitchen with ease. She was so lost in her thoughts that she didn’t hear her dad pull up in the driveway and enter the house filled with the aroma of chicken baking.

Seeing Bella in the kitchen reminded her dad of what he had lost. Suddenly, overwhelmed and exhausted, Bella’s dad plopped himself down on the old hickory wooden table. He began crying. He had tried so valiantly to remain strong.

“Dad?” asked Bella, coming over to give him a hug. “Are--are you ok?”

“It’s just that—just that I miss your mom so much,” he sobbed. 

Bella looked at him tenderly. He had aged so much in the past months. He looked fragile and leaned against her, tears gushing from his eyes. The facade of his strength had vanished.

“I know,” said Bella. “I really miss Mom, too.”

The two of them just hugged for a minute, tears welling up in both of their eyes. Finally, she kissed his head, and said, “I know that we lost Mom. But her memory will live on with us. Always.”

After dinner, Bella ambled outside, near the barn, and gently touched the old swing hanging on the oak tree. As if she was willed by fate, she jumped on it and began swinging, just like her mom had done so many times before in her stories. She just swung, taking in the nighttime air filled with the scent of jasmine and feeling that her mom was right there beside her as she reminisced all her childhood stories, assured that a part of her mom would always live on inside of her.