“When I die, I don’t want you to be alone.” 

For years, this is what Lucy’s mother said. Lucy thought it nothing more than a sweet, meaningless gesture. Her mom was sick, she knew that, but she never looked it: always smiling, whether she was gardening, or eating a raspberry muffin from the cafe on Pine Street. Especially when she was eating her muffin.  

Lucy didn’t think she’d ever be alone. Lonely, maybe, but not alone. She had friends, though her best friend had always been her mom. They had a dog, too – Bear. Some people thought it was weird that Lucy preferred to spend time with her mom. But they had fun together, whether they were walking Bear, stargazing, or going to the cafe on Pine Street. 

Lucy didn’t like muffins, but she went anyway. Each morning, she got a coffee, black. Her mom didn’t understand how she could like something that bitter, always getting a multitude of creamers and sweeteners. And a muffin, of course. The man who ran the coffee shop quickly caught on to their routine and had their orders ready every day.

People often viewed them as opposites, Lucy and her mother. Like light and dark, sun and moon; her mother as a smile, and Lucy as a tight-lipped stare. They were right, and Lucy hated it. She hated that their assumptions of her were correct. But some things were just as simple as they seemed.

*******

On a particularly sunny day in May, Lucy and her mother went camping. They hiked between trees until they reached a field, where flowers in every color imaginable were dotted amidst the fresh grass. New beginnings weaved their way through every leaf, every petal, every blade. And for a brief afternoon, Lucy let go. 

She let go of the pressure from everyone around her, the expectation that she was to make something of herself like her mother never could. Being a teen mom wasn’t easy, and Lucy knew that. She appreciated her mom, who built a life for them from nothing. Even though that life was far away from aunts, uncles, and grandparents. Lucy understood that her mom had given up everything; college, journalism, a high school diploma. But she didn’t understand why it meant that she had to be perfect. She didn’t blame her mom, yet still, she was stuck; ever the golden child, living in a world where she couldn’t slip. 

But none of that mattered. Not now, at least.

 “Can you hear the birds? They’re singing today. I think it’s for you.” Her mother’s words brought her back, breaking her trance. 

“Are they?” 

“Yes.”

Lucy smiled. She wasn’t one to find joy in the small things. It wasn’t in a pessimistic way; she just preferred to save it for what mattered. She had a friend, Ellie, who always wore a smile. Lucy’s mom was fond of her, often encouraging their coffee meetings and sleepovers. Lucy couldn’t figure out how everything was seemingly special to Ellie, how something as little as a flower could make her beam with happiness. Yet, as Lucy sat with her mom, listening to the birds, she smiled. This wasn’t little.

That evening was filled with laughter about her mom’s crazy coworker and Ellie’s latest bits. A golden hue settled over the field as the sun used the sky as its canvas, painting with pinks, purples, and blues. 

*******

Lucy’s mother died six months later; February was a grim month full of sorrow and regret. They found out she was getting worse a week after the camping trip. Lucy thought she was ready, but nothing could’ve prepared her to say goodbye. Or goodnight, as her mom called it.

On the first day after her mother died, Lucy could barely bring herself to leave her bed, only to feed Bear and let him out once or twice. The man from the coffee shop called. So did Ellie. Lucy let the phone ring both times. On the second day after her mother died, Lucy did much of the same. People she didn’t know, but shared the same last name with, called. She didn’t answer. On the third day after her mother died, Lucy walked Bear to Pine Street, but stopped short of the cafe. Concerned friends had sent a stream of messages, none of them read. On the fourth day after her mother died, Lucy walked Bear to the coffee shop and called Ellie back.

“She needs a funeral,” said the man from the coffee shop, two weeks after Lucy’s mother died. So there was a funeral. Her cousins came, aunts and uncles too. But they didn’t talk, acting more like ghosts of people she never knew.

As much as she tried to ignore it, Lucy couldn’t shake the feeling that the pressure she’d felt her entire life was slowly washing away, leaving room for something else to wear a new path.

Lucy graduated high school that spring and started college in the fall. Bear stayed with her mom’s old boss while she was away. She grew apart from her old friends and wasn’t interested in making new ones, mostly keeping to herself and her studies. 

The dining hall at her college didn’t have much variety. One morning, she was late for breakfast and found there was only one thing left: a raspberry muffin. She ate it reluctantly at first, but by the end, she couldn’t figure out why she had never eaten one before. It was delicious! Next time, if someone offered, she would definitely take a muffin. Only raspberry.

Lucy’s first year of college ended in May, and she had nowhere to go but back home. She was happy to be reunited with Bear and grateful she could finally sleep in. One day, as Lucy was getting her morning coffee, she heard a familiar laugh.

“Ellie!”

The pair stayed in touch, but hadn’t seen each other face to face in almost a year. They talked for hours, about college, their summer plans, and coffee. After much back and forth, Ellie even convinced Lucy to put vanilla in her coffee. It wasn’t as bad as she remembered. Lucy smiled. 

For the first time in a while, Lucy thought about her mom. She thought about how different they’d been, like sun and moon. But now, she didn’t feel quite so far from her mother. After all, the moon’s light is a reflection of the sun.

On her walk home, the birds sang.