Years now. For years I've walked the halls of our home. Ever since that day when everything changed.

I didn't know what had happened at first. I was home when you walked through the door, tears streaming down your face. I wanted to touch you, to comfort you but I was frozen in place. Words died in my throat as I felt grief flowing off of you in waves. Without looking at me, without seeming to see me at all, you turned your tail towards me and left the house once more.

It was days before I saw you again. I didn't eat or sleep. A tray of cupcakes under glass sat molding on the table when you finally returned. I assumed you had taken our foals and stayed with your mother for a while. For some reason it was obvious you wanted nothing to do with me.

I stepped aside as you came in, dressed in a black gown, our children in tow behind you. You swept away the moldering cupcakes and fixed them a proper breakfast before getting them ready for school. Again I was frozen, unable to speak in your presence. I didn't know what I had done to deserve this. Even the kids wouldn't look at me.

After you left to take them to school I wandered around the house once more. I felt so lost, so confused. I wanted to race out of the door after you but I was so compelled not to. It was like a physical force was keeping me away from the doors and windows.

I gradually worked out what had happened. I saw the newspaper headline about the accident at the lumber mill where I had worked. I watched as you packed up my clothing and stored it away up in the attic. I felt my heart breaking every time you or the children wept for me.

I floated around in a haze for years as you all grew closer together and the foals grew up. So many happy moments in our home it filled my heart to bursting. Yet there was so much that I missed, unable to leave this place. All I can do is stay here and watch, though I suppose that is more than most are allowed.

Slowly, over time I gained the ability to move around you once more. I still couldn't touch you, but I could move closer and my presence seemed to comfort you. You've grown and become so strong for our family. I've seen the amazing job you've done raising our foals alone. I'm so proud of you.

I finally followed you up into our bedroom and sat down on the edge of the bed. I watched as you teased your hair, putting on your makeup as you got ready for work. I caught a look as you glanced up over your shoulder in the mirror. It likely meant nothing, but it gave me hope. Hope that sometimes you can even see...

“Burnt Oak... Is that you?”