Hold My Hand

(So Hee is the ‘her’ in this writing, who doesn’t exists in the world anymore.)

A warm spring breeze delivers greetings to the people cautiously stepping into the enormous dome, where a green meadow spread out on every side like an eagle’s great wings soaring through the air. They each carry a soft blanket they received on their way in. Most of their faces turn brighter as they look around in awe at the delightful scene and the fresh air, tinged with the pleasurable fragrance of flowers, slide through their nostrils. Right in the middle of the dome is a young tree, which was planted on her remains, that sways slowly along the rhythm of the light breeze, and creates the soothing sound of leaves brushing together.

Relaxed by these unexpected comforts from the nature’s arms, the people settle down freely throughout the meadow, filled with the scent of refreshing grass. When a certain number of people gather round the young tree, the entrance of the dome closes with a light ‘thump!’ which is the signal for the ceremony to start. Every side of the dome darkens, while through the ceiling the sun sets and turns the sky into a magnificent gradation of color, full of clouds that seems like the fluffy feathers that peeps out of pillows every now and then.

Pictures of her fill up the sides of the dome, changing regularly in every few seconds. Simultaneously, Yiruma’s ‘Iridescent’ streams out from everywhere, filling the people’s ears, and head towards their hearts, now filled with yearning and remembrance. One another, people stand up and move in the direction where the young tree stands alone, appearing somewhat lonesome. They stroke the rough trunk of the tree, and some shed salty tears, unable to control the emotions unrolling rapidly somewhere deep inside.

As Yiruma’s heartfelt piano performance and the aching whimpers of people die away, the ceiling of the dome shines luminously, causing the people to look overhead. They gaze in wonder, whereas cold, half-dried tears remain glistening on their cheeks, at the twinkling stars embedded in the dark sky like the chocolate chips studded in a warm, newly-baked muffin. As the people lie down on their blanket, still gazing at the ageless sky, a cool, but reassuring breeze carries the lyrics of the song she treasured in her heart. “Things will get better if you just hold my hand…Nothing can come between us if you just hold, hold my, hold my hand…”The breeze not only dried up the tears of the ones who were lost in grief, but also left them in a peaceful slumber, tucked in their blankets and with the scent of her lingering in their noses.

The sun’s early rays passes through the dome, and spreads out gently on the people, all curled up near the tree. One another, they stir at the sunlight’s kind greeting and gradually wake up, their hands twitching at the velvety touch of grass. The cheerful chirping of birds awakens them, and the atmosphere remains tranquil until one person let out a startled cry, pointing at the tree they saw just yesterday. Everyone turns their eyes to the tree and catch their breaths as they raise their head high to gawk at an extremely big tree, towering over them, their leaves now turned into picturesque cherry blossoms, delivering its sweet fragrance from one place to another. Then again, their astonished faces turn into a broad smile as they each see a light glimmer encircling the tree, her unspoken ‘thank you’ to the beloved ones.

#essay #soheekim