𐬿 𐬼 ♡︎♥︎ 𐬼 𐬿 𝙭𝙞𝙫. 𝙡𝙚𝙩𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙜𝙤

❝𝘼𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙤 𝙡𝙚𝙩 𝙜𝙤 𝙞𝙨 𝙩𝙤 𝙛𝙞𝙣𝙙 𝙥𝙚𝙖𝙘𝙚, 𝙩𝙤 𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙜𝙚𝙩 𝙞𝙨 𝙩𝙤 𝙞𝙜𝙣𝙤𝙧𝙚.❞

IT ISN'T WEIRD that Y/N and her father are driving to the beach with an urn strapped in in the back seat, no that isn't weird. The girl is used to that by now. After her mother passed, her father took the urn everywhere. What is weird is that they're going to the beach to spread her ashes. That is something that Y/N is surely not used to.

"High and Dry" by Radiohead is playing softly through the speakers of the car. That was Y/N's mothers favorite song. Y/N's father tapped his fingers on the steering wheel to the rhythm, as Y/N sang the song. It brought the girl back to when she would take car rides with her mother. This song would play, and her mother would sing her heart out to it. Back then, Y/N always thought her mother was a crazy person the way she sang that song. But now, it seems Y/N is in her mothers place, putting her soul into singing.

As the song ends, Y/N let's a tear slip. It feels warm as it rolls down her cheek. Why am I crying? she asks herself. The girl faces the window, to avoid any unwanted empathy or attention from her father. She'd probably seem so pathetic to him, or at least that's what she thinks.

Soon enough, the car comes to halt, and Y/N wipes the salty tears off of her face. She takes a deep breath, before turning to her father.

"We're here, kiddo," her father states, with a bittersweet smile. Bittersweet is such a word to describe this moment. That's what it is, bittersweet. Like chocolate dipped in salt. Two emotions combined into one. Yes, bittersweet is definitely one way to describe how Y/N and her father are feeling.

"Evidently," the girl replies. She figures if she gives a snarky response—as she always does—it would maybe, just maybe, make this moment normal. As if it is just a casual stop at the beach. Though, Y/N knows that this is no usual occasion. Her father chuckles, before getting out of the car. Y/N does the same, and goes in the backseat to grab her mother. Y/N holds the urn in her arms, careful to not drop it, and closes the car door by shoving it with her back.

"I can hold her if you'd like," her father suggests, holding his arms out. Y/N agrees, and places the urn in his arms. "you know, the beach was your mother's favorite place to be."

"Yeah, I'm aware. That's pretty much why we're here," Y/N replied. It didn't occur until after she had spoken that she sounded irritated. She isn't though. She isn't irritated, but rather melancholic.

"Are you sure you're ready to do this, kiddo?" her father asks, concern laced in his tone. At this point the two aren't walking anymore, but standing in the sand.

"Yeah I just..." Y/N trails off, attempting to find the right words.

"Look, I know why you're so reluctant. I want you to know that this isn't letting go of your mother. Not at all. Not in the slightest. This is us letting go of all of the bad. The dread, the regret, the grief, the pain, everything we felt when she passed, everything we may still feel," her father began to explain. "I know this is all new to you, considering I was like a zombie this entire year, but I just want us to be happy again. And I want your mother to be free. But, if you're not ready, then that's okay."

"I..." Y/N doesn't know what to say. It's like something switched in her mind. This whole time she has thought that this was moving forward, and forgetting about her mother. All the memories and times cherished. But forgetting is not letting go. And to let go is to find peace, to forget is to ignore. The girl takes a deep breath.

"I'm ready," Y/N decides. And so with that, they make their way down to the water. The waves crash into the sand, and the smell of the salt in the air gives a feeling of serenity to Y/N. It all happens in a bit of a blur. Again comes that bittersweet feeling.  With the (bittersweet) smile on her face, and the tear in her eye...

...her mother is free.

And she lets go.

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