The Return

The sound of shovel hitting earth - then the silent void left when it stopped - signified the end of the informal service. It was done. Her father's ashes were safely interred in the hillside cemetery overlooking the valley of the town she'd grown up in and he'd adopted as his home when he and her mum had come to Canada some 30 years before.

Paige exhaled sharply - the sound startling her with its volume. How long had she been holding her breath? She looked away from the sympathetic eyes of the small group standing graveside, took her husband's hand and walked down the hill until they reached the cemetery fence.

"It's a beautiful spot," she said weakly as she stopped, the barrier of the fence containing the multitudes of gravestones the way her personal barriers forbade her from losing it in front of a crowd. "At least he has a nice view." Neil squeezed her shaking hand, saying nothing.

They stared into the distance - in late summer, the canola fields were in bloom, the intensity of yellow startling her every time she saw it. The checkerboard pattern of fields in alternating colours and textures lulled her with a sense of safety and familiarity. The town itself was a mere grey smudge in the distance allowing her negative memories of the area to remain the same. But despite having made her life on the coast for the past 12 years - the city life and ring of majestic mountains happily replacing open skies and Northern Lights - the beauty of the almost prairie landscape sang to her whenever she saw it. Home. But not home.

Paige exhaled again, a long controlled breath. She looked at Neil, pain openly displayed on his face as he took her in his arms and kissed her forehead. She took a few more deep breaths from this place of safety before composing her features, squaring her shoulders, and returning to rejoin life.