When I look around all I see is gray. Gray. This sad and obnoxious gray that makes everything look deformed and out of place. Here and there small plants add some green to the gray. Even though the grass seems dry and lost between all this gray, I like it. I bend my neck back and glance up into the sky. My head is heavy and full of memories of people I met who are only a few meters away from me lying in the ground. The sun burns like magnesium. It hurts my eyes and I have to close them but I can already feel a tear running down my face. The wet and cool saltwater runs its way down my cheek until I catch it with my tongue. It reminds me of the ocean, a peaceful memory I'd like to keep a bit longer but it lasts only seconds. When it's all gone I am back at the cemetery. Every year I spend half an hour bringing candles to my relatives' graves. I don't enjoy it but it has become a tradition and so I keep on doing it.

It's time to get rid of all these candles I bought but instead of commanding my legs to move I just stand straight and look around. Every time I am at the cemetery I want it to be done as fast as possible but every time I am there I just stand in the middle of the cemetery, ready to turn left to visit my relatives. I keep still in between all these gray graves of old, young, female and male people I've never met. I stay there for a minute until I am finally ready to say 'Hello' to the ones I love. I can feel the light breeze in my hair and hear it go through the trees, it causes the almost red and orange leaves to rustle. I can smell this morning's rain on the pavement. The warmth of the sun is relaxing and it causes me to shiver. If I was somewhere else than a cemetery I would definitely enjoy the whole scenario, but I am not somewhere else.
Feeling ready to get this over with, I turn just to notice a movement to my right. I recognize a woman sitting on a bench a few meters away from me. Her  hands cover her face completely. Her shoulders go up and down, shivering. Her hair is carelessly put up in a ponytail. Strands of blond brown hair hang loose down her neck. Her hopeless appearance somehow catches my eye. It makes me curious. I move slowly towards her. The dry grass and wood crack under my feet. It seems extremely loud even though I assure myself that she can't hear it. As I make my way towards her, I swiftly look at the names and dates to the left and right as I pass. I stop standing on her right side and act like I am grieving over the person's grave in front of me. The writing is faded due to that grave being from the early 1900's. Slowly I turn my eyes to the left, but my head remains in it's position. I am looking at the grave the woman sits in front of. On the grave is a hill of flowers. Flowers in yellow, white, red and blue. In my opinion, they look way too positive but maybe they have a special meaning to the family. One ring of pink flowers rests on the top of them. Saying "We will remember you". Candles in red holders burn right and left to all the flowers. My eyes wander from the flowers up to the letters and numbers. A picture is included as well. A little girl in a pink dress laughs into the camera. Her brown hair is put together into two ponytails on the right and left side of her head. Her eyes shine like she just received the doll house she has always wanted.
I bite my lip and close my eyes. I want to delete this image out of my brain. I feel like I just interrupted a very intimate moment. I just want to go home and be warm and comfortable and make this unseen. Instead of expressing how sorry I feel for her loss, I just say nothing. In some situations it's better to say nothing. I turn to my right ready to go but I hesitate and look back a last time just to see that the bench is empty. The woman's gone. Wondering how and when she disappeared I let my eyes wander across the cemetery. But I can't see her anywhere. Just as I want to head back I hear something rustle and look down. In my right hand I've been carrying a bag with candles in it ever since I entered the cemetery. I take a few steps back to the girl's grave. I stand there for a second. Just looking at this picture "The world is unfair" is all I think and before I start to hesitate I kneel down. I open the white bag and take out one red glass with a candle in it. While I hold it in my right hand I try to find matches in my pockets. Shivering I try  to burn the candle. With a 'whoosh' it finally catches fire. I shake my hand quickly and throw the match back into my bag. Then I place the candle in the middle between the right and the left candle on all the flowers. I stand back up and shake my head. I quickly make the cross sign and pray the 'Pater Noster'.
Then I leave and don't look back. My feet go faster than I want them to go. I pass all these dead people, all these gray graves. Just hoping that I don't have to come back ever again. Maybe it's because of the child that was so young when she died. Maybe these two remind me of the relationship between my mum and me. Maybe it reminds me of how much I love my mother and that I can't imagine loosing her. She would sit in front of my grave too. And suddenly I realize, I've been picturing my mum instead of the woman and it breaks my heart. Losing my mother is my most vulnerable point. I can lose them. I can loose all my other relatives. I am able to live without them. But I can't imagine living without my mother.