Page 133 of Skulls and Stitches
“You are the thread …” he replies.
“Together, we weave our love story from the dead,” we say in unison through the intercom.
Now that I am a mom, I often think of how Mama would feel seeing me choose the life she despised and not only living it but raising our daughters in it.
It’s funny how, even as adults, our parents’ approval still weighs on us, even if they are buried beneath the ground. It’s a burden our conscience carries, especially if we have veered off the path our parents set forth for us.
I’m not sure where Mama and Papa’s souls rest now. I’m still not sold on the concept of Heaven or Hell. It all feels so subjective to reality. All I know is I don’t want Carmine and me to waste our years on this Earth worrying about how to conform our souls in the off chance that there is a palace in the sky. I don’t want to raise our daughters to be slaves to that delusional conformity, either.
One day, when my time comes, and I reach the end of the road, I will take my chances to see if mine or Mama’s beliefs were correct. All I know is that I have already lived life without Carmine, and it felt like Hell on Earth. Now that I have him,all of him,the idea of Heaven does not feel like it’s in the sky, but instead, it is right here. It is right now. Heaven, if such a concept exists, is in the moments that I have with Carmine and our little family.
Here, onLa Casa De La Espiral, we have stitched together our own perfect ending.
