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“MY HEART PANTETH, MY STRENGTH FAILETH ME; AS FAR AS THE LIGHT OF MINE EYES, IT ALSO IS GONE FROM ME.” —PSALM 38:10

S ydney had visited the cemetery for years in her mind. She gripped the steering wheel, barely aware of the dampness that oozed from the palms of her hands. She was thankful for her five-speed as she shifted to a lower gear while driving up the steep winding road. The weather was warm—too warm for the time of year. It was stuffy in the jeep, and she rolled down the window. There was an uncanny calm in the air, almost like the sky was holding its breath. The calm before the storm. Dark clouds were gathering overhead, letting her know she didn’t have much time before the bottom fell out.

Half a mile off the main road, the cemetery came into full view, perched on the hill, just as she remembered. She stopped in front of the old rusted sign that read New Prospect Cemetery . Any other time she might’ve found it amusing. Why in the world would anyone name a cemetery New Prospect ?

Huge magnolia trees stood as sentinels for the hundreds of tombstones dotting the landscape. Sprigs of artificial flowers threaded a crazy quilt pattern over the graves. Five or six graves were surrounded by wooden fences. A heap of old discarded flowers lay at the edge of the cemetery.

Sydney parked the jeep in the vicinity she remembered. She reached for the flowers that would be her small tribute to her parents. A dozen yellow roses for Susan and a single red rose for Avery.

She walked among the tombstones, trying to avoid stepping on any of the graves. She’d been afraid of cemeteries when she was a young child. When she’d thought of cemeteries, she pictured the ghosts and goblins of Halloween that rested under the black tombstones labeled R.I.P. They lurked there, waiting to spring back to life at the first light of the full moon. She’d been so young and innocent, so unprepared for what lay ahead. She couldn’t possibly have imagined then that her beloved parents would be among the buried dead. Now she would give anything if they would suddenly spring back to life.

Images of her last visit to this cemetery floated in her mind like actors across a stage. It had been a beautiful sunny day. She could hear Judith, urging Avery to get into the car. The passage of time had been a buffer to the pain. Here, in this place, time reversed itself. She might have been sixteen all over again.

The roar of thunder jolted her and propelled her feet forward. It was getting dark fast, and she would have to hurry before the approaching storm made it impossible to find their graves.

She walked to the location she remembered and hunted for their names but couldn’t find them. Where were they? The trees seemed to come alive. The heavy branches swayed and twisted in the air that was building momentum by the minute. She picked her way through the headstones, desperately searching to find them. A few minutes later, she stopped, realizing that she’d made a full circle, and they were nowhere to be found. She looked up at the clouds and felt the first drops of rain. She surveyed the cemetery again, and then she spotted them, a mere four feet from where she’d first begun her search. She had walked right past them.

There was one large tombstone for the both of them. On one side were the words Avery McClain, Beloved Husband and Father. On the other side of the tombstone was written Susan McClain, Beloved Wife and Mother. Across the bottom was an inscription. “Earth holds no sorrows that cannot be healed in Heaven.”

Tears fell down her face, matching the heavy drops of rain that were now pouring like a waterfall from the sky. She carefully placed the flowers on their graves. Never before had she felt so completely and totally alone. Susan’s face flashed in her mind. She saw it transform right before her very eyes from vibrant to a sickly pallor of death. Then the explosion, its searing heat, destroying everything in its wake. Pain, the dreaded familiar pain, throbbed in her thigh and she saw Avery. It was too much. Her grief rose from the shadows and became a living thing that was so terrible in its majesty that she feared it would devour her very soul. She cried out in anguish, the emptiness enveloping her like a shroud. The hollow echo of the wind rushing through the trees was her only answer. She saw herself returning home to an empty house after her mother’s funeral, remembered the terrible loss of losing her dad and not being able to attend his funeral, felt again the pain of not being able to return home after the accident.

She fell to the earth and wept. A voice penetrated through the blackness in her mind. It rose like a gentle wave, enveloping the pain. Ginger’s words: “You never have to be alone again. The Lord will always be there for you.”

She clung to those words and knelt between her parents’ graves, ignoring the rain soaking her clothes. Her anguished prayer spiraled to heaven. “Please Lord, where are you now? Be with me now. I need?—”

Lightning split a nearby tree. She jumped to her feet and ran toward the jeep, her feet making a soft suction in the wet earth. Her body trembled. Somehow she managed to get in and start the engine. Rain was coming down so hard that she had to inch her way to the main road. Branches were scattered everywhere. Sydney strained to see the meager path that her headlights were creating. She could barely make out the road up ahead. It was like none of this was real. Her body was going through the motions while her mind was caught in some black tunnel.

“Stop!” A man was standing in the middle of the road, waving his arms. Sydney hit her brakes and skidded a few feet. A flash of lightning lit the sky, and she noticed that a power line had fallen behind where the man was standing.

He walked over to the jeep. “What are you doing here?”

It took her a minute to convince herself that he was real and not some figment of her messed up mind. “Kendall?”

“Sydney, what are you doing?”

“I was taking a drive and got caught in the storm.” She was thankful that she was soaked from head to toe so that Kendall wouldn’t be able to tell she’d been crying.

“How did you get so wet?”

“What has happened?” Sydney asked, ignoring his remark.

“A tornado touched down, and the volunteer firefighters have been called in to help.” Kendall’s eyes studied her face. “Are you all right?”

“Yes, I’m okay. Was anyone hurt?”

“Part of the roof blew off the Malone place, and Betty got cut on her leg, but she’s going to be okay. I don’t think anyone was seriously hurt.”

“That’s good to hear.”

Kendall was still studying her.“Are the roads passable? Can I get home?”

“Yeah, you’ll have to take a detour.” He pointed. “If you take a left on Cooper, it’ll take you back to the main road.”

“Good, it’s been a long day.”

He put his hand on her arm. “Sydney, what’s going on?”

She shook her head. “I’m okay. Just tired.” She gave him a weak smile. “Call me when you get home.”

“Of course.” He leaned in and cupped her chin with his hand. He searched her face with those soft eyes of his until she felt like she would melt. He moved his hand under her hair to encircle the nape of her neck. Ever so softly, his lips came to hers. The tenderness in his touch was almost overwhelming. After a moment he pulled away and brushed a strand of hair from her face. “I won’t ask you any questions until you’re ready to answer them. Okay?”

She nodded, not quite ready to let go of the warmth they shared. He was here, right when she’d needed someone the most. He couldn’t begin to understand what that meant to her.

“We’ll talk when you’re ready.”

She smiled. “Okay.”

“It’s a rough night, and I’ve got to help or I would go with you right now to make sure you get home safe and sound. Promise you’ll be careful?”

“I will.”

Kendall watched Sydney drive away. He noticed her tires were caked with mud. The road she came out of was a dead end, leading to only one place: the cemetery. In two swift strides he walked to the company of fire fighters. “Guys, I’ll be back in a few minutes. I need to take a look at something.”

Kendall scoured the cemetery with his flashlight . No signs of life—only the grotesque shadows of wet tombstones. Was this where she’d come from? He searched until he found what he was looking for—the muddy tracks where she had parked her jeep. He followed the soft indention of footprints until he stood in the exact spot Sydney had stood earlier. There in front of him were two graves. He looked down at the fresh flowers, falling limp in the rain. On the tombstone was the inscription “Earth holds no sorrows that cannot be healed in Heaven.” For a moment he forgot about Sydney and thought about his own dad who was buried a mere hundred yards from where he stood.