[ RF ] A Flower Placed On A Grave

I stared blankly at the ceiling. It had still been dark when I ’ d woken up but by now the sun was shining onto my face through the gap in the curtains. I rolled over to Marks side and put my face into his pillow. I inhaled deeply for a few seconds before I got up. I put my slippers and dressing gown on and went downstairs. 
 
 As I opened the fridge there was a knock at the door. I opened it to see my mum standing there, wrapped up in such a big scarf that I could only just make out her smiling eyes. She hugged me and stepped inside. 
 
 “ How are you feeling Soph? ” she asked. 
 
 “ I ’ m think I ’ m ok, I ’ ve had a month to get used to it. ” 
 
 “ It ’ ll be fine Soph, we ’ re all here for you. ” 
 
 “ Thanks Mum. I ’ ll make us some breakfast. ” 
 Really I just wanted an excuse to turn away from her. I hoped my sniffle wouldn ’ t give her any indication that my eyes were filling with tears. Thankfully the frying of eggs and the clattering of plates filled the silence. 
 
 “ They ’ re not as good as Mark used to do but they ’ ll be alright. ” I said as I put the plate of eggs in front of her. 
 
 “ Are you not having any? ” 
 
 “ No, I ’ m not hungry. I ’ ll go and get ready. ” 
 
 There wasn ’ t much conversation in the car. As we got closer to the cemetery I began to think of Mark more and more. I felt like getting sick. I came closer and closer to bursting into tears. I wanted to stay strong. I was thinking of Mark and how lucky I had been to know him. We ’ d been married for 6 years when he was killed. A lot of military marriages fail because of the time the men spend away. Our marriage was different though. We ’ d been deeply in love ever since we ’ d first met and even though Mark spent a lot of time away, that love never faded. I understood that it was part of his job to go away on tour and I know he loved going with his men. He felt responsible for them. I could accept that but when I found out he had been killed I had been distraught. Of course, I was upset because it my husband that had been killed. But most of all I had been angry. I was angry at the Army for making him go away so many times and I was angry at Mark for staying in the army. I blamed them both for his death. Did neither of them realise what they ’ d put me through? Why couldn ’ t somebody else go? It was always Mark. He ’ d been on tour 4 times in 6 years. Some men don ’ t ever go on tour in their whole army career. 
 
 And now, one month after he was buried I had let go of that anger. The men under Marks command had told me that he ’ d saved many lives. He was a brave man. He was a good leader and always put the welfare of his men before his own. He would never ask anybody to do something that he wouldn ’ t have done himself. Of course, I knew all of this already. Mark was a great man to so many people and it was this knowledge that gave me comfort as I laid the flowers on his grave. 

