The metallic cross gives me comfort. Despite it being cold like him, it gives me warmth. I remember the last day with him. Being in his arms; dwelling in tears. As we said our goodbyes, something was dropped in my hand. It was a piece of him. It was this cross.
This piece is a thin cross. It is held by a metallic chain. The cross is made of two parts, an outline of a cross and a smaller cross that hugs into one big cross. The two pieces swing together. They fit perfectly together. They are meant to be together.
It is shining silver that sparkles like the sunrays. The inner cross holds a tiny diamond. I hold onto this cross and wear it upon my chest. On the dreaded days that life strikes at me, I feel his embrace through this little cross. I let my fingers fidget with it, feeling its icy cold. There isn't a moment I ever recall that cross being warm. Yet I am warmed by it.
I feel the cross whisper to me. It whispers in chills, offering a strange comfort on piercing dreaded days. For most, it would be uncomforting, but for me it is a hug from the other side.
I am always afraid of losing this precious cross. Not being able to hear its clinking as I move.
I brand this cross into my heart. It's a part of me now. A sliver of my heart. A star sent from heaven. I know it will protect me. I carry it to keep me safe and close to my beloved.
I Cross My Heart
Amanda Beaver, 2016
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