I Did It for You

By Edward Ganthier

“I graduated, Mom!” I held up my diploma.

She said nothing.

“Professor Parker said she will write my letter of recommendation for grad school.” I beamed a smile wide enough to hurt my jaw.

Wind blew behind me.

“I’m considering Fordham University.”

Autumn leaves stirred around the tombstone. Red leaves sprinkled on Mom’s grave and highlighted it like spreading wildfire. I maneuvered my diploma to the crook of my left arm and crouched to swipe away the leaves. I stopped midway, realizing how foolish I must have looked to her.

I traced the engraving and whispered, “I hope you’re proud, Mom.”