After My Daughter’s Funeral, I Came Home To Discover A Black Tent In My Backyard. When I Saw What Was Inside, I Became Quite Pale

Ashley comes home exhausted and distraught after burying her daughter Lily, age eight. However, she is pulled out of her numbness and forced to face a mystery she never could have predicted when she discovers something unexpected in her backyard.

I believed I was ready to say goodbye, but I wasn’t. Perhaps it was tranquil for Lily after all, as they had promised. However, the pain was more intense than I could have ever imagined. I had lost my young baby, and I was at a loss for how to navigate a world without her.

A week has passed since we buried her. Hospital beds, hushed prayers, and the slow, agonizing loss of her laughter characterized the days before her death. It didn’t feel real, but we buried her today. Like a shadow of myself, I made my way through the burial. When my friends and family arrived, they had confused looks on their faces.

Aunt Ruth put her arms around me and whispered, “Ashley, I’m so sorry,” Her scent was overpowering. I refused to accept a hug. All I wanted was Lily.

“She was such a light,” another person said. Although I couldn’t hear them clearly, I nodded.

Lily laughing was all I could think about. How a room may be filled with her tiny giggle. Never again would I hear it. More than anything, that notion broke my heart. I wanted to cry out, but I couldn’t.

I continued to stare at the vacant chair where Lily should have been as people began to leave and offer their sympathies. My mind kept returning to her last days, and my body felt heavy, as if I were pulling myself through mud.

I heard a voice say, “Let me know if you need anything,” as I was leaving the cemetery. I didn’t answer, but I nodded. How could anyone help?

There was silence on the way home. Music somehow felt improper, therefore I was unable to switch on the radio. All I wanted was silence. The kind of silence in which you can act as though your sorrow has caused the world to stop.

I didn’t even know how I got there as I pulled into the driveway. For a minute, I sat in the car and gazed at the home, attempting to muster the will to enter. I didn’t want to confront that void. Not without her.

But before I could escape, something stopped me.

There was a tent in the backyard.

A large, multicolored tent. The sort of thing you see in a circus. Stripes of red and yellow, with tiny flags flying at the top. It was illogical. My throat tightened with my heart.

“What… is that?” I said to myself in a whisper.

I scratched my eyes and blinked. Perhaps I was having hallucinations. People who are grieving do funny things, don’t they? I was worn out and emotionally spent. The tent was still there, though. Out of place, brilliant, and bold. In a world of black and white, it was like a burst of color.

My legs felt like they would give out at any moment, so I stepped out of the car gently. In my yard, who would set up a tent? And on this very day? My mind was racing with inquiries. Was this a joke of some kind? Or had I gone totally crazy?

With each step feeling heavier than the last, I moved closer. The vibrant flags atop the tent rustled as the wind increased. I thought my heart could burst from the intense pounding.

I clenched my hands and said, “This can’t be real,”

However, it was genuine. The stitching on the fabric and the wooden posts holding it in place were elements I could see as I drew nearer. My thoughts were racing. No note, no indication of who placed it there or why, was present.

My hand was shaking when I reached out and touched the tent flap. It was real; it felt solid. My stomach turned over. I had to find out what was inside, even though I didn’t want to open it.

I inhaled deeply, then grabbed the flap’s edge and yanked it open.

With my heart pounding and my breath coming in short gasps, I gently opened the tent flap. Something was bundled up in the center of the room within. My mind struggled to make sense of it for a moment. It was little and motionless, wrapped in a blanket. My stomach turned over, and I was powerless to halt the rush of memories that came at me at once.

Lying in the hospital bed is Lily. So pale. So brittle. The machines, the tubes. I recall how she hardly moved in those final days, her small body engulfed by the blankets. It was so heavy that my knees almost gave out.

“No,” I said in a tremulous murmur. “No, not again…”

With my entire body trembling, I took a step forward. The universe seemed to be making fun of me, and the scene before me felt like just another cruel joke. Why now? Why now?

The bundle moved abruptly.

I frozen in place as I gasped. I could hear my heart beating so loudly in my ears. I was momentarily at a loss for what to do. My thoughts raced, braced for more suffering, anticipating the worse.

Then, however, a tiny head appeared beneath the cover. The fur of a small golden retriever puppy is as silky and golden as the sun. With a pink bow around its neck, it gazed up at me with large, inquisitive eyes. My throat tightened each breath. I gazed in utter overwhelm.

“What… what are you doing here?” With a cracked voice, I whispered.

Waving its tiny tail, the dog squirmed out of the blanket and staggered in my direction. It stood in sharp contrast to the anguish that had engulfed me for so long because it was so vibrant and pure. Still incredulous, I carefully crouched down and reached out to touch the smooth fur. Warm and alive, my fingers shook as they touched the puppy’s fur.

My eyes filled with tears. “Why is this puppy present?” “Who did this?” My voice cracked as the bewilderment blended with the heaviness of the melancholy I had been carrying around all day.

Something else caught my attention as I was petting the puppy: an envelope hidden beneath the blanket. A beat skipped in my chest. I picked it up with trembling hands and gazed at it for a while. It was the same handwriting on the front. I recognized it, and my breath caught. The handwriting of Lily. Untidy, yet hers.

As I carefully opened the envelope, my vision became blurry due to tears. There was a brief, straightforward note inside. As I read the words, my hands began to shake.

“To my mother,

Since I had to go to paradise, I understand that you’re depressed. However, I wanted to leave you something that would make you smile once more. To give you someone to cuddle with while you’re missing me, I requested Daddy to get you a puppy. Daisy is her name, and she enjoys playing a lot! Take care of her for me, please. I will always be above, watching you. You have my undying love.

Love, Lily.”

Grasping the message to my chest, I fell to my knees. I was powerless to halt the waves of weeping. My tears were more intense than those at the funeral. More difficult than I had experienced since realizing I was losing her.

“Lily…” My voice was no more than a whisper as I sobbed.

My darling little girl had been thinking about me even in her last days. She was aware. She was aware of how much it would hurt and how much I would miss her. She also managed to ensure that I wouldn’t be left alone. A puppy. A new life to cherish and care for.

The warmth of Daisy’s little body helped me to stay grounded as I held her close. The presence of Lily was still palpable. She gave me the puppy and the tent as part of her final present. A reminder that her love would always be with me, despite her absence.

The strangeness of the tent had subsided. I was able to locate Daisy there and rekindle my connection with Lily.

Daisy turned into my shadow during the ensuing days. She scrambled, following me everywhere, her little paws thumping on the ground. I wasn’t sure what to do at first. With my heart so broken, how could I possibly take care of this puppy?

Daisy, however, left me with little option. When I was curled up on the couch, she would nuzzle into my side and lick my hand until I forced a grin through my tears. I was reminded of the brightness Lily used to bring when she would bounce around with her little pink bow, full of delight and energy.

I would think of Lily every morning as I sat with my coffee and Daisy at my feet. I would see her keeping watch over me, her grin still beaming brightly. And I could feel Lily’s affection enveloping me each time Daisy cuddled up in my lap.

Daisy wasn’t a substitute. There would never be a replacement for my Lily. However, she was a component of her. A reminder of the love Lily left behind that is alive and well. The weight on my chest gradually, day by day, decreased by a small amount.

Taking care of Daisy helped me to emerge from my haze. I had to get up and play with her and feed her. Lily knew I would need her, and she needed me.

One last present from Lily was a motivation to continue. I also realized that I wasn’t alone in my grief, even though it would never completely go away.

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