Chapter 59: Act 2: Chapter 6
Second day, Eighth Moon, 252 AC (+12 days)
"Come on, Anari. Let's go for a little walk, and let your mother and siblings spend a little more time inside," I said, as I led her out of the building.
It was another temporary structure, as so many seemed to be lately. It was one I had hoped not to build for a long time, but life has a way of defeating those plans. Three days past, Ethan had died in his sleep after fighting multiple illnesses over the past few years. Jess followed her husband the next night, and luckily, she died peacefully in her sleep as well. She had not been sick, so I believed that she died from heartbreak. They had been married for 48 years, and they had both lived to old age, with Ethan being 72 years old and Jess, 63.
Nyra was devastated at her parents' death, especially since no one had expected her mother's death. The whole family was in mourning, even I was not unaffected, and the entire village turned out for the funeral.
Our family had been blessed so far, in that death was still a new, unwelcome, experience for the children. They had yet to realize the fragility of life but had finally received that dreadful lesson. Of course, they had been to funerals for other people, non-family that is, but having family die tends to affect a person more than a distant acquaintance. The children were saddened, though the younger ones were already bouncing back a bit. Anari was still too young to truly understand what was happening and was making a bit of a racket, so I took her and left the building.
In contrast to the traditions of the region, we were going to place the remains of Ethan and Jess in a mausoleum, rather than hidden in a private location. I had always thought it was a morbid ceremony, so changing it would be beneficial and send a message to the people in my lands that they need not fear the Ironborn any longer. Most of the other parts of the tradition stayed the same, the burning, the feast, etc., it was just the final resting place that was different.
Evelyn had even drawn portraits for her grandparents for their graves so that we could look upon them as they were for all time. Evelyn had done so at my suggestion when she had been at a loss of what she could do to help with the funeral. Doing so now, while she could still remember her grandparents' faces was important, rather than doing so years down the line when memories started to get blurred. This had also spurred Evelyn into doing family portraits for the rest of us at some point, though in a more cheerful setting.
As I walked with Anari, we cut through the forest and made our way to the river. Playing by the river had always calmed Anari down, as the gentle current and sounds of the water had always lulled Anari to sleep when she had been a baby. It was peaceful moments like that that helped you move through the hard moments in life.
Ethan and Jess had both lived good lives, and though the early years had been harsh the latter half had been wonderful to them, and I knew they had been very happy. The days of long, cold, and hungry winters had been behind them, and they had seen their grandchildren grow, as well as their first grandchild being married. It was a remarkable thing for people in the area, but I was just happy that they had been happy. Seeing their children raised to a Masterly house had just been icing on the cake.
Unfortunately, this rise in social standing had seen myself spending less time than I would have liked with either of them. I had spent less time with my good-parents as my duties increased and my free time decreased. While I had spent some quality time with Ethan as his health started to fail, but it hadn't been much. Nyra had spent more time, and while she enjoyed her time, it hadn't made things any easier. Doubly so, when Jess had died, it hit Nyra even harder since she had been so focused on her father. The time she spent was treasured, but it would never be enough.
As Anari and I reached the shore of the river, I sat down on a large rock while she tried skipping stones across the surface of the water. It was a beautiful day that heavily contrasted against the atmosphere of the funeral, though that would change slightly in a few hours when the feast was set to begin.
Anari was right at the age where she could understand death in a general sort of way but couldn't apply it to her grandparents. She would forget and ask about them, and her moods varied wildly. Sometimes she would cry when others were; sometimes she would get restless at the depressed atmosphere. I felt for her though, as her siblings and a lot of her cousins were older and had more memories of their grandparents, and she would have but a few. I had lost my grandfather when I was a little older than Anari, back on Earth, and I had few memories of him and time had worn a lot of those away.
Still, it was peaceful out by the river, and I let myself recharge a bit. I rarely got a chance to relax anymore, so anytime I could, was valuable. I leaned my head back on the rock and closed my eyes, listening to the sound of the water and of my daughter playing.
Life might stop for but a breath, but it always moves on.