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with family. I didn’t blame her. I wasn’t angry with her. She was able to die with her husband. Maybe not alongside him - but she got to name her own death. She chose to follow her beloved. I understood her. I envied her.
    I would have come back to Tennessee more often to visit them but life got in the way. I had a great childhood, and great parents. I was lucky. My mother was the kind of mom who would make me hot chocolate in the wintertime, have tea with me and my dolls and chase away the bogeymen at night. My dad was firm with discipline, but never failed to dole out the hugs and kisses when they were needed. Two decades of childhood memories whirled behind my watery eyes as I looked down upon my mother.
    Ronan leaned into me and reached his small arms around my waist, hugging me tight.
    “I’m sorry, Mommy. But you still have me.”
    “I know, baby,” I sobbed.
    “We should pick some flowers.”
    “We should. That’s a real good idea, sweetheart. Let’s get some flowers.”
    Ronan picked a giant basketful of the yellow dandelions that littered the front lawn while I picked the colorful annuals from around the old mulch which surrounded the house. Wild flowers of every shape and color ran alongside the trees in the back and I pruned the ones I could easily reach. In the end, we could no longer see the white quilt peaking through the blanket of flowers that spread across of the bottom of the pit.
    “What should we do now?”
    “Just stand here and have good thoughts about her, that’s all. Just for a little while.”
    I allowed Ronan to go play in the grass while I stood at the foot of my mother’s grave. My reverie was broken seconds later by the sound of a muffler. I turned to see a giant pick-up truck with a double cab and oversized tires pulling up the driveway. I waved slightly, knowing full well it was someone from the Fielding’s farm. I turned away to wipe my face against the sleeve of my t-shirt and heard the engine shut down while a door creaked open.
    “Carson?” Ivy said.
    “Yeah.”
    My feet shifted while I waited for the inevitable touch of her hands on my back. She didn’t say another word and I rested my head on her shoulder.
    “It’s Mom,” I squelched while sucking in short breaths.
    “I’m so sorry, Carson.”
    “Thanks.” I righted myself when I heard the light tread of footsteps behind us.
    “They wanted to make sure you were alright. So did I.”
    I turned slightly to see Solomon and Cooper edging over the pit, glancing at me with worrisome eyes.
    “Why don’t we take care of the rest of this for you?” asked Solomon.
    I hesi tated at first but nodded in agreement. Cooper took the shovel and looked at me before tossing in the first pile of fresh earth. He moved slowly at first, and covered each patch of flowers delicately, letting the dirt slide off the shovel rather than pitching it in. He didn’t speak or make any discernible faces. He only glanced at me every so often. I kept my head down, letting my black hair fall over my eyes to hide my grief. But I could still see him through the locks.
    After it was done, I thanked them all and invited them into the house. Plucking out a few cans of cheesy beef ravioli, I placed their contents into three bowls and set the microwave on high.
    “You have power?” asked Ivy.
    “Yeah, remember? Mom and Dad went off the grid ye ars ago. This house stands completely on its own.”
    “Do you have hot water?” asked Solomon.
    “Yup. Tankless hot water heater downstairs. It’s more efficient. The windmill and solar panels make the electricity and we store it in huge batteries outside. That pretty much gives me enough power for everything around here.”
    “I’ll be damned.” Solomon leaned up against the counter and looked around the room, as if the walls contained some great secret to power autonomy.
    “We could do the same for you, you know,” I offered.
    “You mean, to my house?” Ivy asked.
    “Yup. It wouldn’t be too