We were sitting in a restaurant, overlooking the water, when you told me. Clasping my hand, looking down at your salad like it held all the answers. I said all those things people said in the movies, and you grinned with tears running into those creases at the corners of your mouth. It was funny how I’d looked at you before, but never really seen you. I wondered if your folded smile would be passed on into another life, or my nose, or your slow gentle way of blinking. I wondered if the world would still see the way I always tapped my foot, even after I was gone. Which parts of us would carry on, and which parts would end? Which echoes of our parents went on with us? I looked out to the water, my heart filling with waves, overlapping and overlapping until they inevitably met again.


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