Unconditional Love

Kenzie kept her gaze locked on her Conversed-feet as she approached the grave. She knew that if she so much as glanced at the tombstone an all-too-familiar wave of grief would crush her until the point of suffocation. Kenzie looked up at the pink Japanese cherry blossoms clutched in her shaking hand instead. She studied each curve and contour of the delicate flowers, her eyes welling with unshed tears, until she knew that she could not avoid the grave in front of her any longer. She took a deep, shuddering breath of the warm, rich with humidity, late-August air and smelled the strong aroma of the sweet Japanese cherry blossoms. Tears began to trickle down Kenzie's cheeks.

Kenzie knelt down, her whole body shaking, so that she was eye-level with the words engraved on the tombstone and in her broken heart.

Corynna Smith

March 23, 1994- June 20, 2009

Beloved friend and daughter

To Kenzie this inscription on her deceased best friend's tombstone seemed incomplete. The words were generic and plain, the exact opposite of Corynna's vivacious personality and out-going charisma in life.

Kenzie lay her offering among the other wilting bouquets and pictures.

Hey Corynna. I brought you some Japanese cherry blossoms, Kenzie's quiet voice wobbled as she spoke to the tombstone. She swallowed the lump rising in her throat. I thought it was kind of ironic when I purchased them from the florist since we planned on traveling to Japan together after we graduated.

The cemetery was empty save for Kenzie and old Mrs. Church. Old Mrs. Church had lost Mr. Church about twelve years ago, and she still visited his grave every Sunday. The first time that Kenzie had visited Corynna's grave by herself she had had a complete emotional breakdown; she had ended up shrieking at the tombstone, 'How could you leave me? Do you know that I can't even sleep at night anymore? I hate you, Corynna!'

The meltdown had ended with Kenzie sprawled on the grass bawling her eyes out. Old Mrs. Church had witnessed this display, and came over to her.

My husband left me too, old Mrs. Church stated in her gravelly voice.

Yes, I know but he didn't take his life, Kenzie violently rubbed the tears from her face.

Old Mrs. Church took Kenzie's face into her soft, wrinkly hands. You don't think I was any less angry with my husband than you are with your friend? Mr. Church choose to smoke a pack of cigarettes everyday for fifty years, in essence he did take his life slowly but surely. I can go through my life hating him or I can accept that everyone makes mistakes and move on with my life. I chose the latter.

Kenize waved at old Mrs. Church now, and she gave a smile that didn't seem to each her eyes. Turning back to Corynna's grave, Kenzie said the words that she knew would always be true, I love you.

Learn more about this author, Kelly Raso.
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