I Love You, Mom

Warren visits his mother's grave, just in time for the holidays.

Warren walked up slowly, gently, to the grave, as if he was afraid to tread on the ground for fear of disturbing anything in the yard. The headstone was covered in moss like it always was after Warren came back after a while, no matter how much he scrubbed it off.

He ran his fingers lightly over the carved stone, then knelt down to the grass bed that flourished with dandelions and the small purple flowers he planted every year.

"Hey, Mom." Warren's voice was loud in the graveyard and got no response. He swallowed thickly and tapped his finger on his knee before grabbing a small shovel. He began to clear a little hole in the center of the grave area.

"It's been a really busy year," he huffed while he worked. "I know you've already heard about me becoming an X-Man, back last month. Well, it's pretty cool, being a superhero." Warren scrunched his face up, then laughed a little. "Who'd have thought I would ever be on a team of heroes in a school for mutants."

His tongue suddenly became thick in his mouth. His hands stilled on the soil and he blinked rapidly.

"I think you'd be proud, Mom." He swiped his hand over his cheek, smearing dirt across it. He didn't care, really. "Xavier told me yesterday that he was proud of me. And... I don't know, I just started bawling right there, like, ugly crying." Warren choked on his last words. His tears made pathways through the dirt on his face. "I love you a lot, Mom. I think you'd like Charles, too. He takes good care of me. He loves me like I'm his-" Warren stopped as his throat constricted, then coughed and it came out as a sob.

He cried openly for a few minutes, clinging onto his mother's headstone, wishing for peace, wishing for forgiveness and for love, all of which he knew he had but would not receive from his mother in her current state.

Abruptly, he straightened up and grabbed the pot of roses by his side. Carefully he removed the base and slid the plants out of their holder and placed it in the hole on the grave. He sniffled as he packed down the soil and straightened the roses. As he sat back to admire his work, he noticed that there was a ring attached to the headstone.

Warren crawled over to the object and inspected it. It was connected by a metal hook in the stone and shone brightly, as if it was new. He peered inside, trying to read the inscription, and froze when he read the words.

For my angel, Katherine. From, Warren.

His father had come here, Warren realized, most likely within the last few days judging by the state of the ring. The thought made him angry, suddenly, but he fought back a snarl and instead let the ring fall back against its holder.

"Angel," he muttered, miffed, and stood up, brushing the dirt off of his knees. He stepped back and studied the grave for a long while before he turned his back and started towards the graveyard gate.

"Wait," he said aloud, to no one in particular, and he dashed over to his mother's grave. He hugged it tightly, dropped a kiss onto the top, and whispered, "Happy Mother's Day. I love you, Mom. I love you so much."

The words hung in the air as if they were being contemplated, but the weight on Warren's shoulders felt lifted. Without another word - none more were needed - he exited the yard and didn't look back.

Author's Note

Happy Mother's Day to you & your's.