Sweet Sunday: What is one of your favorite memories with your mother?
Veilos stood near the doorway, arms loosely crossed, watching as his mother, Maira, sat at the edge of the couch, cradling his newborn daughter for the very first time. She hadn't said much when he told her the baby's name. Just froze for a long moment, staring at him like she had misheard. And then, gently but hesitantly, she reached for the child. "Zynia," she whispered now, testing the name again, voice trembling but steady enough to hold the moment together. “She’s… beautiful.” Kyrisa, curled up beside Veilos with a blanket over her shoulders, smiled tiredly, her head resting against his arm. The labor had been long and exhausting, but she insisted on being there, awake and present, when his mother arrived. Veilos saw the way Maira's shoulders curled in slightly, the way her lips twitched into a fragile smile and then faltered, like she wasn’t sure if she was allowed to cry. Her wife, Zynia, had passed less than a year ago. The grief was still raw, and now here she was holding a child named for the woman she had loved. Kyrisa said softly, as if reading her thoughts. “We just wanted her to be part of this. However she could be.” Veilos stepped closer and knelt beside his mother’s knee. The baby squirmed in her arms, letting out a soft, high-pitched sigh, and he saw Maira’s face break, just a little. Her eyes welled up, her chin trembling as she looked at him. “I didn’t think I’d get this,” she admitted. “After everything. After losing her, and with you being away and everything so uncertain. I thought maybe that was it. No more beginnings, just endings.” “But she’s here,” Veilos said gently, his hand covering hers. “You get a new beginning too.” They sat in silence for a while, and Maira eventually leaned down and kissed the baby’s forehead. “She’s going to be stubborn,” she murmured with a small laugh. “I can already tell. Like you.” Veilos smiled faintly, and Kyrisa gave a soft laugh of agreement. For just a few minutes, the weight of the past didn’t feel so heavy. The grief didn’t disappear, but it lingered in a softer way. In his mother’s arms, Zynia breathed gently, unaware she had already brought healing just by being.
ty @nahisummerhold
