bury me in all my favorite colors...my sisters and my brothers too

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Many people attended the funeral. Service and reception were held, with Lance's entire family that I knew of, then family from Arizona and Cuba, and California. My family came, Shiro and Adam, and Lance and I's friend group.

Everyone was devastated.

They treated me like a fragile object.

It was hard not having Lance there. I began to realize when I came home to an empty house, that I was dependent on Lance, I had been. Even long before he'd grown sick.

But I'd made him a promise. A promise I'd keep.

He was cremated, and his ashes were thrown in the waters of the ocean by our beach house, so he could always live in the sweet memories of our love.

I tried, to be productive. To make someting for myself.

But for weeks after his death I shut myself out from the world.

I packed all his books and photos, DVDs and belongings away in boxes in the back of my closet.

I locked myself in our room, spending the day watching my ceiling, and replaying our lives together.

I had a support group. Hunk and Romelle always brought baked goods, Allura and Coran clothing, especially since the cooler months began to come as I wasted my summer mourning. Matt and Pidge helped keep my things running- cut my lawn, paid my bills. Shiro and Adam went job hunting for me, built my resume.

Lance's family called me every week, a different relative, just checking in. His mother visited me everyday, with a number to call for a therapist. She'd hold me and tell me I was loved. We never talked more than that. And it was more than enough.

I spent summer laying on my bed with the window open and a fan running to fend off the heat, drinking lemonade and thinking of Lance. It hurt. In a good way. I didn't want to forget anything about him. But I didn't want to remember he was gone.

Fall leaves came as September ended, and my windows closed.

I took a trip to the therapist. I didn't like it.

But Lance's mother insisted. I went through six therapists, before I found one I felt understood me.

She was a fellow widow, with two sons. Mid 50's. She reminded me of my late mother. The same serious eyes, that melted when they saw me.

I didn't need to say anything with her. She let me listen to her talk about her recovery, what she loved about her late husband. Weeks passed, and I felt myself open up. I could relate to many things. It helped to know there were others who felt the same way.

I began to socialize again. Went to see my friends. Lance's mother took me on a trip to visit his family. I began to stay for every holiday. Shiro and Adam got me interviews. Then I landed a job.

Winter came with a new purpose in life. My promise to Lance couldn't go unchecked, and I felt I owed him that much. I worked at a tattoo shop now. It didn't pay much but was enough for me to live alone comfortably. My friends were there to help me whenever I fell off and couldn't get to work.

Everyone was always... there. I felt so lucky to be loved and supported, so much. I wanted to share that.

I found myself driving to the orphanage.

I didn't know if she would be there. The small girl Lance and I had laid eyes on a few weeks before he'd grown sick. It'd been so long...

But she was.

She wasn't on any adoption queues or lists, because many parents didn't want such a 'defective' child. She was seen as abnormal, and difficult.

But she was perfect to me.

Her name was Ola. She was only three, with reddish brown eyes, and platinum blonde hair. One eye was foggy, but her smile was electric. I felt my heart flutter when I saw her. I knew Lance would have loved her. She had the same sunshiney aura about her that he did.

I signed her papers, I did her checkups and got registered.

December came, and I took her home.

Lance's mother and sister came to help out- I knew nothing about child caring. But I had the enthusiasm, the drive. I wanted Lance to be proud of me. And in doing so I fell in love with Ola, and she filled a hole in my heart I didn't know had been there.

On that Christmas Eve, I brought Ola to our honeymoon spot.

...

"This is it." I said. I held her hand, as we walked down the beach to the cold waves.

"Lancy..in there?" Ola asked, pointing a chubby hand to the ocean.

I smiled, kneeling next to her. "Yes. He loves the ocean so much that he decided to stay there forever. He's happy."

"That's cool! Lancy so cool." She grinned. "He is a shark. Grr." She scrunched her nose and growled, giggling and covering her face.

I laughed, lifting her in my arms. "He is very cool, he would love to hear you say that."

"Really?" Ola smiled. "You're cool too, Keef." She pecked me on the cheek.

I blushed. "Thank you. So are you."

She giggled, before turning to the ocean. "I love yooouuu Lancy!!" She screamed, turning back to me with awe.

I smiled, before walking down to the tide's berth. "I love you Lance!" I called out to the dark ocean.

The tide lifted around our feet, Ola whimpering and giggling at the cold, as I smiled, my cheeks and nose pink.

We headed back towards the beach house, the wind blowing our hair towards the waves. Dark and frigid against the sand.

I lifted a hand to my lips, dry and chapped from the ruthless cold.

And I smiled.

Because I could remember his.

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