All Your Firsts Without Me

by L.M. Terry

“I was fortunate. I’ve had a beautiful life.” We lie quietly, watching the sun set and what a spectacular one at that. It’s as if God spared no expense for the ending of this day. Every color of the rainbow is splattered across the darkening canvas. The water reflects the amazing view back to the heavens. The gentle ocean breeze rolls over us, ruffling Kaden’s hair. It’s so peaceful. This, this is why David and I moved here. Just as the final arch of the sun dips below the surface, a bright blue butterfly flits in front of us, landing on the edge of our blanket. “Dad. Dad, do you see the butterfly?” Kaden whisper-yells to David, unable to take his eyes off the winged creature. The butterfly flies in front of us, doing an impressive dance in the sky, as if it’s showing off his grand flying skills. “David, do you see it?” I ask, just as a chill courses through me at how still he is against my back. “Kaden,” the tinge of panic in my voice makes him sit up quickly. He rolls David onto his back, his arm sliding off of me as he does. I turn and stare down into my husband’s rich brown, lifeless eyes. We both turn to watch as the butterfly flies away from us. “No!” I scream, throwing myself over my husband. Not yet. Not yet. There is so much more to do. So much more to say. No! No! No! Kaden closes his father’s eyes for the last time.