The Ides of March

Marie woke early a sense of dread filling her. She didn’t know why at first but then remembered the date. The ides of March. She turned towards Regan but he was already gone. His pillow was still warm so she must have just missed him leaving.

No matter, this was something she could do alone. She rose and dressed quietly, put on her boots and coat, and slipped out of the door. She walked north to the little clearing on the edge of her property where the 3 gravestones stood. The daffodils and tulips that had been planted there brought a smile to her lips and tears to her eyes. She walked slowly to the stones and sank to her knees in front of them.

“Hello mama” she whispered, her hand caressing the moss covered lettering on the stone.

Eva Lamoureaux Bonnenuit

Loving Wife, Mother, and Daughter

March 15 1782 – March 15 1805

Carved below it was another name.

Francois Bonnenuit

Devoted Husband and Father

November 11, 1779

Lost at Sea April 11 1805

It had been a devastating blow to 7 year old Marie, losing first her mother, then her father in so short a span of time. The grief welled up anew and she wept as she pulled the few weeds from the headstone. She chatted to them while she worked, mostly to distract herself but also so she wouldn’t turn to look at the other, newer grave.

She finished her work and turned towards the other two.

Octave Lamoureaux

Loving Husband and Father

August 16 1752- July 7 1806

“Hello granpere.” She worked to clear his stone too, continuing the conversation. Finally she turned to the center stone.

Claudia Lamoureaux

Devoted Wife – Loving Mother – Beloved Grandmother

April 25 1766-March 15 1820

Had it really only been a year since she died? Marie still occasionally caught whiffs of her perfume when she opened a drawer or the wardrobe. She sobbed at the fresh pang of grief but cleared this stone too. “Hello Mémère. I miss you so”.

She was so caught up in her work that it took her a moment to notice the large black wolf watching her from across the clearing. She wasn’t afraid this time. She had never encountered any other wolves in the area so it must be Regan. She held a hand out to him, not shrinking back when he bared his teeth at her. She stroked his muzzle lightly until he closed his eyes and nuzzled his face into her palm, stepping into her arms to snuffle her neck. She looped her arms around his neck and buried her face in his fur, letting the tears flow as she hugs him. He sat patiently, occasionally giving her face a gentle lick as her grief ran its course.

“Thank you mon loup.” She wiped her eyes, laughing when he licked her face again and rested his head in her lap, tail wagging when she scratched behind his ears. “Like that do you?”

They sat for a while like that, forming a newer, happier memory of the place before he gave her face another lick and melted back into the woods. “Goodbye my love,” she whispered to the wind as she headed back to her house.