The afternoon skies were expectant of an evening rain. The sun however, still shone through the opening of the clouds, its rays falling gently across the stone homes of the departed among the trees.

“Y’know, Pa.” Chandra wrapped her arms around her knees. “There’s this girl that I recently reunited with. You didn’t get a chance to meet her, but I think you would’ve liked her. She likes making jam.”

Chandra turned to smile at the bed of flower petals that she had placed on her father’s grave. There were small, white jasmine flower buds among the rose petals, both red and white. They ruffled in the breeze across the yellow-green kenanga flowers—the ylang-ylang flowers—and the pandan leaves that were cut in thin, short strips. 

Each rose petal was soft, gently caved in the middle and held droplets of the water she had used to bathe her father’s grave. The trees that lined the area to protect the land moved with the wind, swaying as it blew past. There were only a couple of other people sitting to visit their loved ones today, and Chandra could sit contentedly with her father. 

“I wonder if she would’ve made pineapple jam for you if I asked,” Chandra continued. “You would’ve loved the pepaya jam she made, though. It’s just the right amount of sweet.”

A stray weed rested against her foot and she gently pulled it out by the roots to keep her father’s home clean. 

“Tika liked it too, which is a surprise. She rarely eats jam.” Chandra looked at the uprooted weed, studying the way the dirt clumped together among its roots. She aimed towards the bushes and gently threw it among its own kin.

“Tika’s a grown woman now, Pa. I’m sure you already know.” Chandra turned to smile at her father. “She even goes to the doctor on her own now.”  

Her father’s name shone on the damp stone, inscribed in white. Her voice was quiet as she idly uprooted stray blades of grass that began growing around his grave. “She also asked me to step in for you, Pa. For her wedding. Would that be alright?”

The wind rustled through the leaves and moved to flip the collars of her button-up, fluttering through the shoulders of her shirt and the stretch of her back, enveloping her before it passed. Chandra smiled, reaching one hand to place on the stone of her father’s grave.

“I hope I’ll be able to do it right. I’ll ask the uncles about it. Ah, Tika also asked me to invite Kyra to the wedding. That’s her name by the way—the girl who likes making jam. I think I’m going to ask her today.”

The gentle breeze came by again, this time ruffling through her hair and dislodging a couple of stray hairs to blow across her face. Chandra quietly laughed and let the breeze ruffle through her hair some more, gently shaking strands of her hair free from her ponytail with a shake of her head.

“Well, I’ve been asking myself the same thing, Pa. Maybe I do.” Chandra let her smile turn wistful as she looked towards the flower petals sitting quietly on top of the earth. Her voice turned into a quiet whisper. “Would you have been okay with it if I did?”

A white petal from the bed of flowers fluttered against the breeze and tumbled towards her hand, falling softly against the ridges of her knuckles. Chandra’s smile tugged at her lips as she used her thumb to gently pull the petal across her fingers towards her palm. She cupped it inside.

“I’m sorry it took me so long to visit you, Pa.” Chandra held her closed palm close to her chest, the white petal nestled inside. “Wish me luck, ya?”

And she spent the rest of the afternoon sitting with her father, telling him about her job in the city and the antics of her neighbors. She told him how nostalgic it felt to walk through town and remember buildings she once knew and being surprised by buildings she didn’t know. About the anthropology students she reunited with and the fruit popsicles she shared with Kyra under the night sky.

She smiled with him and agreed that time can be such a strange phenomenon at times, moving so quickly yet so slowly at the same time.