Page 70 of Marc

I carry them outside to the large trash can that Staci has next to her garage door.

When I come back inside, Staci is taking knick knacks off of shelves, wiping them off with a rag, and placing them on the freshly cleaned kitchen counter.

I grab a few tiny crystal bear figurines off of the large wooden mantle and carry them to Staci.

“What’s the story of these little guys?”

Her lips curl up into a small smile. It contains no happiness, only longing and remembrance.

“Every year for Christmas, my mom would collect that year's special crystal figurine. She had an entire display case full of them. Teri and I alwayssaid we were going to start our own collection once we got a place of our own.”

She takes one of the bears from my hand. It is holding a small bouquet of blue flowers.

Her eyes get glossy with tears, and I regret even asking about them.

Do all of her items have an emotional, sentimental reminder?

“When my sister got sick, she said she was sorry that we wouldn’t be able to have our own collection in our future house. Before she died, she ordered this one for me. Those flowers are forget-me-nots and represent true love and respect.”

My heart aches from the pain that is evident on Staci’s face and in her voice.

“Oh, Staci. I am so sorry.”

She wipes the bear off and places it on the counter with the other figurines.

“No need to be sad. It made it out unscathed and it is a reminder of my sister.”

I open my mouth to speak, but nothing comes out.

What can I say that will make her feel better?

Nothing.

Nothing I say will change the past or make the present better. The reality of the situation is pretty dim and terrible, and I don’t want to add to it.

She picks up another figurine that has a big bear and a small bear each holding a balloon.

“This one is a mother and baby bear, but I lovedit so much that I bought it to represent me as a big sister and Teri as a little sister.”

“It is really sweet that you honor your sister like this.”

She shrugs. “I don’t have as many as we have dreamed, but they are a bit expensive and I try to get a new one every year.”

I look down at the last crystal bear figurine that is resting in my palm.

“And what is this bear’s story?”

There is a jar attached to the bear's side that reads sweet as honey. His outstretched hand is covered in honey.

A smile forms on Staci’s face as she picks up the bear.

“I was just walking around the mall a few days after finally leaving Jared and saw this one in the store's window.”

She carefully turns it around to inspect every side of the tiny figurine before continuing.

“I just loved this one and had to have it, but if I were to come up with a bullshit story to tell you, I’d say it is because I love honey and can eat it every day, which is true by the way.”

She wipes the tiny bear off and places it on the counter with the rest of them.

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