It’s been two years since I lost my dad to cancer. Two years, four days, and a lifetime of heartache, to be precise.<\/p>\n
I still remember the day we found out he had stage IV lung cancer. It felt like the world had stopped, and that we were in a nightmare we couldn’t wake up from.<\/p>\n
The doctors began treatment immediately, but deep down, I think we all knew it was a losing battle. Dad fought hard, but in the end, cancer won.<\/p>\n
That day, I was at home in the city when Mom called from our hometown.<\/p>\n
Her voice, usually so strong, cracked as she delivered the news.<\/p>\n
“Penny\u2026 he’s gone.”<\/p>\n
I don’t remember much after that. It’s all a blur of tears and frantic packing. My husband, Andrew, drove us to Mom’s house, and I kept expecting Dad to walk out the front door, arms wide open for a hug.<\/p>\n
But he never did\u2026<\/p>\n
I remember the empty feeling in my heart as I stood with my relatives at the funeral.<\/p>\n
It was like I had dissociated from my body. I could literally watch myself weeping as they began to lower the casket.<\/p>\n
It felt like a piece of me was being buried alongside him.<\/p>\n
They say time heals all wounds, but the pain of losing my father is still fresh. It’s been two years, but it feels like I answered that dreadful call from Mom just yesterday.<\/p>\n
At first, I couldn’t function. I’d cry myself to sleep every night, replaying memories of Dad in my head.<\/p>\n
The time he taught me to ride a bike, the way he’d slip me an extra scoop of ice cream when Mom wasn’t looking, his proud smile at my college graduation.<\/p>\n
The pain was so intense that I started questioning everything. Why me? Why us? Was I cursed to be the unluckiest person on Earth?<\/p>\n
I couldn’t bear to visit our hometown anymore. Every street corner, every familiar face reminded me of Dad.<\/p>\n
As a result, I threw myself into work, hoping to drown out the grief with spreadsheets and meetings.<\/p>\n
Since I had stopped going there, Mom began visiting me instead, and I was grateful for the arrangement.<\/p>\n
But recently, guilt started gnawing at me. I knew I needed to go back, to face the memories I’d been running from.<\/p>\n
So, last week, Andrew and I made the drive back home.<\/p>\n
I kept tapping my foot and biting my nails as we drove towards my hometown.<\/p>\n
It felt like an invisible hand was squeezing my chest as familiar landmarks began to appear.<\/p>\n
But I had to do this. I owed it to Dad, to Mom, and to myself.<\/p>\n
We stopped at the cemetery first, and honestly, each step towards Dad’s grave felt heavier than the last. When I finally reached it, my knees gave out.<\/p>\n
I sat there, tracing his name on the cold stone, as tears streamed down my face.<\/p>\n
“I miss you so much, Dad,” I whispered, wishing I could feel his arms around me one last time.<\/p>\n
I don’t know how long I sat there because I was so lost in memories and regrets. It was Andrew’s gentle touch that brought me back to reality.<\/p>\n
“Penny,” he said softly, “look over there.”<\/p>\n
I followed his gaze, and my heart stopped. A few yards away stood another headstone, and on it was… my name.<\/p>\n
Forever in Our Hearts, Penelope, it read, with a photo of me as a little girl, grinning at the camera like I had the whole world figured out.<\/p>\n
“WHAT THE HECK?” I gasped. I looked at the headstone with eyes wide open, thinking this was a nightmare. But when I pinched myself, there was no waking up. This was real. My grave was real.<\/p>\n
With shaking hands, I pulled out my phone and called Mom.<\/p>\n
She answered on the first ring.<\/p>\n
“Mom,” I began.<\/p>\n
“I’m at the cemetery, and there’s… there’s a grave with my name on it. What’s going on?”<\/p>\n
There was a pause before Mom’s voice, eerily calm, came through.<\/p>\n
“I didn’t think you’d ever come back to see it,” she said.<\/p>\n
“What do you mean?”<\/p>\n
“After your father passed,” she explained, her voice quivering slightly, “I felt like I’d lost both of you. You stopped visiting, stopped calling… I needed something to mourn.”<\/p>\n
She paused.<\/p>\n
“So, I bought the plot next to your father’s and had the headstone made,” she continued. “It was the only way I could cope.”<\/p>\n
How could you do that, Mom? I thought.<\/p>\n
I couldn’t believe that my mother had been mourning me, even though I was alive and well. At that point, I didn’t know whether to feel angry or heartbroken.<\/p>\n
However, when I thought more about it, something didn’t add up. Why didn’t she mention this during her visits? Why pretend everything was normal?<\/p>\n
Then it clicked. The visits, her constant worry about my health, her insistence that I move back home… She wasn’t just grieving. She was preparing for something else.<\/p>\n
A chill ran down my spine as I remembered the pills she’d tried to give me for a cold last year. I didn’t think much of it, but now\u2026 Could she have been trying to\u2026?<\/p>\n
I needed answers.<\/p>\n
“Mom, I’ll be over soon,” I said and hung up before she could respond.<\/p>\n
Andrew looked at me. I could see how concerned he was.<\/p>\n
“Penny, what did she say?” he asked.<\/p>\n
“I think she’s lost it, Andrew. We need to go to her house. Now.”<\/p>\n
The drive to Mom’s home felt surreal. It was bittersweet because the streets and parks reminded me of the time I spent there with Dad, but they also reminded me that he wasn’t with me anymore.<\/p>\n
That he wouldn’t be there to hug me when I entered home.<\/p>\n
As we pulled into the driveway, I almost forgot why we were there. Almost. Until I saw my Mom at the doorstep.<\/p>\n
“Hi, sweetheart!” she smiled standing at the door as I got out of the car and walked towards her. “How are you?”<\/p>\n
She sounded like she was so happy to see me, but her eyes had this strange satisfaction that made me think she had been expecting us all along.<\/p>\n
We sat in the living room, and I noticed everything was just as I remembered, except for one addition: a small shrine with my photo, candles, and fresh flowers.<\/p>\n
My stomach churned.<\/p>\n
“Mom, this has to stop,” I said, fighting to keep my voice steady. “Why did you do it? Why pretend I was dead?”<\/p>\n
She sighed.<\/p>\n
“I couldn’t let you leave me like your father did. I needed to keep you close, Penny. This was the only way I knew how.”<\/p>\n
I felt sick.<\/p>\n
I knew this wasn’t just grief. It was more like an obsession, and I knew Mom wouldn’t let me live my life if I let her continue this. I could see how she wanted to control my life, trap me in this town, in her house, in the twisted version of reality she had created.<\/p>\n
I knew I had to stop her.<\/p>\n
“Mom, this isn’t normal,” I said as I stood up. “I think you need to talk to someone. Maybe a professional who can help you through this.”<\/p>\n
She shook her head.<\/p>\n
“Mom, please,” I cried. “I’ll get you the best therapist in town and you’ll be fine in no time.”<\/p>\n
“I’m not going anywhere, Penny,” she said, looking down at her palms. “And neither are you.”<\/p>\n
Stay calm, Penny, I told myself as I took a deep breath. I knew pushing her and arguing with her wouldn’t work.<\/p>\n
“Okay\u2026 how about this,” I began, hoping she would consider my suggestion.<\/p>\n
“Why don’t you come live near us? I’ll find you a nice house nearby, and we can see each other every day.”<\/p>\n
Mom looked at me with a blank face.<\/p>\n
“I mean\u2026” I continued, “You won’t have to be alone and I’ll be able to look after you this way. What do you say?”<\/p>\n
That’s when a lovely smile spread across Mom’s face.<\/p>\n
“You’d really do that for me, Penny?”<\/p>\n
“Of course, Mom,” I said, taking her hand.<\/p>\n
“We’re family. But if you agree, I need you to let go of this… this memorial you’ve built. It’s not healthy, and it’s not real. Let’s take it down and start fresh, okay?”<\/p>\n
She hesitated but eventually nodded.<\/p>\n
“Alright, Penny. If it means being closer to you, I’ll do it.”<\/p>\n
A week later, I stood beside Mom as we watched the cemetery workers carefully remove the headstone bearing my name.<\/p>\n
And then it was time for the shrine in the living room to be dismantled.<\/p>\n
Soon, we began preparing for Mom to move near our place.<\/p>\n
Honestly, the transition hasn’t been easy, but I know it’s the right one. I just feel so grateful that I decided to visit Dad’s grave that day because if I hadn’t, I could’ve never learned about the strange world Mom was living in.<\/p>\n
Now, for the first time in years, it feels like we’re finally heading in the right direction. Dad’s memory will always be with us, but it’s more of a source of strength rather than pain.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
It’s been two years since I lost my dad to cancer. Two years, four days, and a lifetime of heartache, to be precise. I still remember the day we found out he had stage IV lung cancer. It felt like the world had stopped, and that we were in a nightmare we couldn’t wake up […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":5,"featured_media":2617,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[4],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-2616","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-tales"],"yoast_head":"\n