Chapter 4
The Empty Tomb's Gaze
Lily's attention is drawn to a picture of an empty tomb on her wall. Initially a symbol of absence, it begins to stir a different kind of contemplation.
The afternoon sun, usually a warm hug, felt a little dim today, filtering through Lily’s bedroom window like a shy visitor. Lily sat at her desk, a cheerful jumble of colored pencils, half-finished drawings, and a collection of small, shiny things that Grandma had always called her “happy treasures.” There was a smooth, grey stone Lily had found on the beach with Grandma, a tiny, chipped ceramic bird that chirped when you wound it up, and a little wooden cross that Grandma always kept in her apron pocket. Each object was a tiny, tangible piece of a love that now felt so very far away. Lily traced the smooth surface of the stone, a sigh escaping her lips, soft as a butterfly’s wing. Grandma’s absence was a big, quiet space in Lily’s world, and sometimes, it felt like a hole in her heart.
She picked up a drawing of a bright red ladybug, a creature Grandma had loved. “Why?” she whispered to the ladybug, her voice thick with unshed tears. “Why did you have to go, Grandma? It’s not fair.” Lily’s brow furrowed. She’d been thinking a lot about fairness lately. She’d seen a boy at school who always got the best toys, even though he sometimes pushed other kids. And then there was her Grandma, the kindest, gentlest person Lily knew, who was gone. It just didn’t make sense. It felt like the world had gotten things mixed up, handing out sunshine to the grumpy and rain clouds to the sunshine-lovers. A flicker of anger, sharp and quick, pricked at her. She felt a little bit guilty for feeling angry, though. Grandma wouldn’t want her to be angry. But it was hard not to be.
Her gaze drifted, unfocused, across the wall above her desk. It was covered in pictures and drawings, a collage of Lily’s world. There were wonky stars, smiling suns, and a very proud-looking drawing of her cat, Mittens. And then, nestled between a rainbow and a picture of a fluffy cloud, was something different. It was a print of a painting, one Grandma had hung there herself, a long, long time ago. Lily had never paid it much attention, not really. It was a picture of a cave, dark and deep, but the entrance was bathed in a soft, golden light. And inside, where a person might be, there was nothing. Just an empty space.
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