They ate simple sandwiches while the urn sat on the kitchen counter. Three bites in, Blair Jon broke down, face in his hands.
“I can’t do this! I can’t.” He bent in half as if stabbed in the gut.
Mom comforted him. Micah said “Bro!” Gramma Savannah was wide-eyed, but continued chewing her sandwich. Julian thought that no more tears could come. But these, hers, were for Blair Jon.
After a few moments, she stood, fetched the urn, and returned to her seat. She put her cheek against the cool stainless steel and heard the words come, as if they were not her own.
“He says he’s happy. No more pain, Blair Jon. No more pain.”
She finished in a whisper. “He… he wants you to be happy.”
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