Chapters Grandpere Pear walks into our barn for what I'd believe to be the first time ever. As he called it, it was "as organized and neat as the Pears' barn." After Applejack finishes givin' introductions, I smile and follow Applejack and Grand Pear upstairs to his room. He's gonna be stayin' with us now, as a new part of the Apple family. Well, techincally, he's been an Apple for a while. But I'm glad to have seen him acceptin' us as a family and stayin' with us.
He sighs as he sits on the guest bed. "If only your mother were here," he told me, Applejack, and Big Macintosh. "I would apologize to her. I would tell your dad I loved him and his wife both."
Applejack softly rests a hoof on his shoulder. "If only the world worked the way we wanted it to. There would be a lot we could do, a whole world to set right."
"Eeyup," agrees Big Mac.
I'm not familiar with the sweet voice Applejack says Mom has. Or the fluffy hair that's seemingly like Pinkie Pie's hair. But Applejack says she got her hat from Dad. I'm familiar with that. I only wish I could know more about them. That gives me an idea. "Grandpere Pear," I turn to him, gettin' his attention, "do you know any stories with Mom and Dad that you could tell me? Please?"
He rubs his chin for a bit. "Well, probably not any that you haven't heard yet. Obviously, the two kept secrets about their love from both Granny Smith and I. And remember, I moved out of Ponyville at around the time of their wedding, so I don't know much about them as a couple."
"How about Granny Smith?" Applejack suggests. "I'm sure Mom and Dad lived in the Apple Family Barn after Grandpere moved. Granny must've been there too, right?"
Big Mac nods. "How 'bout Burnt Oak?"
"The firewood salespony?" I ask. "Dad's best friend aside from Mom?"
"Pretty much," Applejack tells me. Big Mac nods as well.
I gleam. "Can we do another sibling trip tomorrow mornin'?" This makes Applejack and Big Mac look at each other with an uneasy look.
"Sorry, sugarcube. We'd love to go, but it's Applebuck Season, almost Cider Season, and we've already spent today off from work. We gotta start work early tomorrow mornin'."
I am disappointed to hear what Applejack has to say, and it's even worse as Big Mac agreed with her. "Now hold on a second," Grandpere speaks up. "Applebloom doesn't need to do much around the farm, does she?"
Applejack considers it for a moment. "Well, aside from her usual chores, she helps us by takin' the basket around and catchin' fallin' apples. But I suppose we could just leave our basket on the ground near the tree."
She and Big Mac start discussin' things with their backs turned to me before they finally face me again. "Big Mac and I have decided to let ya hear some stories on your own." I start to do a cheer when she raises her hoof, implyin' that there's more. "If you finish all your regular chores tomorrow, you can leave early and hear some more stories. As long as your back by lunch."
I beam. "Thank you, Applejack!" And then I hug her, Big Mac, and Grandpere. Applejack tucks me in a little bit later. I look at the hat on her head and think of Papa, Dad, Father. Whatever I called him. One look at my ceiling reminds me of Dad as well, as it has glow-in-the-dark stars hanging there. Dad's cutie mark had a star in the center of an apple. It sort of hurts to think about the things I love but can't have anymore.
I turn over in my bed, facin' my dresser. Guess that wasn't much of a smart choice, either, because on it rests a glitter jar. We made them in class, but they're supposed to help us relax. Seeing one now just reminds me of Mom and her pear butter jar cutie mark. It doesn't seem to relax me anymore, just make me lament even more than I already am. I turn over completely in the bed and push my face into the pillow. As I drift off to sleep, I hear lullabies sung to me. Surprisingly, they're not sung in the voice of Applejack, which I recognize, but instead two voices. A stallion's gleeful voice and the euphonious crooning of a mare. The dulcet lullaby helps me drift off to sleep.
I open my eyes, seeing the world zoom back and forth, as if I'm riding on a rocking chair. 'Cept I know it's not a rocking chair, 'cause when I look down, I'm in the comfort a soft yellow surface. It actually matches my own coat color. Looking up, I see the face of a stallion. Right next to him is a mare with a more orange, cream-colored coat. Their faces alleviate me and I close my eyes. Even though I know for a fact this is a dream, I push away the fact. I take in all I can for now. A dream is near the closest to having my parents with me in real life again.
Boy, does it hurt. It hurts both to have them and not have them. I know that the longer I'm with them, the more I'll miss them later. I climb out of Papa's hooves and hug my Mama. It sounds wrong to call either of them these, so I go with "Mother" and "Father." It sounds so solemn and formal, which is a bad thing, but at the same time, it sounds so right.
"Mother," I whisper while against Mother. "Father." I swear the words feel so heavy on my tongue, so wrong to say out loud. I'm not used to any of this, and that's a fact. It stays silent for a moment, and then I think of a song to sing, one that Fluttershy taught me and Scootaloo. I step forward and reveal my voice.
"Hush now, quiet now,
I keep singing, but as I listen, I hear two more voices join in with me.
"Driftin' off to sleep,
I feel two bodies each on a different side of me, and I smile as I realize how great it is to feel solace. I can't wait to hear more stories of Mother and Father tomorrow morning.
Applejack waves goodbye to me as I depart the barn. We'd all already made plans with Granny, who reluctantly agreed to let me go to Burnt Oak's stand after finishin' my chores this morning. Speaking of chores, it was hard work to rush 'em all in this morning. But I'm sure it was worth it, 'cause I get to hear some stories of the ponies I miss the most.
I love Mother and Father just as much as anypony else would love their parents. Maybe even more, since I didn't really get to have the sensation of getting to know them, resulting in me longin' for my parents even more.
After the short walk to Burnt Oak's firewood stand, I arrive and I realize that currently, he ain't here. I decide that I can ask somepony else first, such as the mayor or Mrs. Cake. Turning around, I accidentally bump into Burnt Oak. He's pullin' a load of logs to his stand to sell. "Hey there," he greets me. "Are you here for more stories?"
He can read me as if I'm transparent as the windows on our barn. "Yeah!" I respond, chipper. I can't wait to hear more of these! "Oh and do you have one that's after my parents' wedding?" He thinks for a minute
"Alright, but this is one I would tell to your siblings." He warns me. I'm not sure what that's 'sposed to imply, but I take it as a bad thing. "So, the Pear Family had already moved away from Ponyville to Vanhoover. Even though it had been a while, your mother was still missing her family real bad, but at the same time, she was glad she didn't have to leave your father. With Buttercup, they continued the family business as usual, but it started to struggle. Buttercup had already had two kids after a few years, and another one was currently due." I know that means me.
"The Apples were striving to thrive. Of course, their friends helped with the work too. That includes me and Mrs. Cake. But over time, we both grew busy with our own things. So after that, the Apples had to farm on their own.
"Bright Mac decided to work another job and maybe get more pay for his family. I offered him a job with me, selling firewood and such. But your father told me 'If I work with you, you'll get less pay than usual. I know how hard a job it is.' He was so considerate to me, he didn't even want to work with me. So he worked a different job, one where he might get paid more and also not cause inconvenience to other ponies."
"Aww, that's so sweet of him!" I comment.
He smiles and nods. "Always thought of others first. Kinda like you, huh? The apple doesn't fall far from the tree," he tells with a wink.
I giggle. "So, what did he work as?"
"He was a taxi driver. It was the perfect job for him, since he was kind and strong. Always ready to help others. So he partially worked on the farm, and other times he was seen around Ponyville pulling taxis. One time, I had the day off from selling firewood, and I decided to help around Sweet Apple Acres. Boy, I hadn't seen your dad in so long, I was rather excited to be back on those grounds. He came back from taxi duty later than day, looking exhausted and in pain. I remember asking 'What's wrong?'"
I bite my lip. This don't sound so good. "Was he okay?"
"Everypony said so, but he really didn't seem all that well. He took a break from work the next day, as I couldn't imagine him working in the condition he was in. We took care of him all day, but he never got better. He stayed this terrible way for a long while, always sick and never better. Until one day, Mrs. Cake and I thought he could use a bit of cheering up. Together, we whipped up a cake and decided to deliver it to the Apples. But we weren't ready for what we were about to see."
He pauses there, tears in his eyes. This must be a sad story. I'm sure I know what's comin' next, but I wait for him to tell the story anyways.
"When we got there, he had... he had..." He chokes up on his words and I walk over to him, restin' a hoof on his shoulder. It sounds like the worst experience, to be there for your friend, only to realize that they would no longer live. He deserves some condolences after bringin' up this story again. I feel guilty now, since I was the one whn
"So," I start, "do you know why he was in the state he was in?"
He wipes the few remaining tears from his eyes and shakes his head. "He was just sick like that. Maybe he was overworked, maybe there was some reason that he wouldn't tell us of. Whatever it was, it destroyed him."
I risk slipping in this question, but I know he needs to tell me. To let it all out. "How hard was it for you?"
"He was my best friend, you have to understand. I lost him to some sickness, and I just couldn't believe it. There was no way he was gone just like that. Every single day, I denied my loss. I made sculptures in his memory, got this pretty expensive hat to remind me of him. Gosh, it was so hard for me to accept it. I kept anesthestizing the whole thing for so long. After a while, a long, long while, I came to accept it. But I'd practically lost touch with the Apples by then. Well, until now, of course."
I gape. It was a lot to take in, and even a young filly like me could understand that. "Do you know what my mother was doing at the time?"
He shakes his head. "I was much closer to your father than your mother. Again, Mrs. Cake and Buttercup were best friends. She could give you her side of the story if you really want it."
I nod. I start to walk to Sugarcube Corners as I wave to him. "Thanks for the story, even if it was a bit sad."
He shakes his head again. "No. Thank you for being here and listening." I smile and get on my way. I hope Mrs. Cake's tale ain't too sad, the way Burnt Oak's story was.
I open the door to Sugar Cube Corners to see Mrs. and Mr. Cake, Pinkie Pie, and even the cute li'l Cake Twins rushin' around the shop, cooking up all sorts of sweets, and all while rushin'. "Hey, Pinkie Pie!" I say first.
"Hey! Did you need something?" she asks me while putting a few cakes away and getting out the ingridents for many more.
I nod, but point to Mrs. Cake, who probably don't even know I'm here right now. "Yeah, I wanted to-"
"Sorry, Applebloom, but we're really busy right now. Even the twins and Gummy are helping us, and even that's not enough," Pinkie sighs while mixing two bowls at once.
I smile. "I'm always free to help you if you need it. Would you like my help?"
Pinkie Pie wiped off a bit of sweat, and while triple-taskin', answered, "Always!"
She hands me a bowl, a few ingredients, and a recipe for apple pie. I already know how to bake apple pies 'cause I do it at home with Applejack and Big Mac to help the family business along. As quickly as possible, I start to whip up nothin' short of a great pie. In a few minutes, I'm almost done with the pie. All I gotta do is put it in the oven. Which I do.
I take it out and start workin' on another pie, when I realize I'm here to listen to stories for a small moment, not to help some friends who needed it. Although, it does feel nice to help out every once in a while. I decide to speak up and let everypony know my real reason for coming here. "Pinkie Pie, it's real fun to help y'all out, and I do wanna do even more for y'all, but I came here for somethin' else."
"Really?" Pinkie asks, looking up for the first time today. I nod. "Did you have something you wanted to order? Because I can get that to you in a jiffy!"
"Uh, actually, no," I answer her. "I wanted to hear a story about my mother. I was hopin' Mrs. Cake would be free, but I guess not. I'll come back another day, when ya'll aren't so busy." Mrs. Cake must've heard me say her name, 'cause she makes a slight sound and looks up from her mixing bowl. "Did you need me? I nod vigorously, but begin to doubt my decision for a minute. "But y'all seem pretty busy today. I can help if you need it, but I'll come back another day so I don't get in your way too much."
"No, no, it's quite alright dear. Now, what can I help you with?" she asks me while putting her materials down.
I smile. "Well, if you have time to talk to me and relax, then I guess I won't waste it while I still got it. I was hoping you could tell me a story about my mom, specifically the one that includes Dad's, um, passing."
She looks rather shocked to hear me say this, but I think she's fine with sharing the story with me. "Alright, if that's what you want."
I start baking cupcakes, to help her business along while she tells me the story I want. Oh, and just trust me, I've improved with my baking now. She thinks. "Where should I start?"
"Well," I start, "I want to know what Mother was doing the whole time Father was suffering."
She nods. "Buttercup was always working on the farm, with your father and granny. And, they had already had two foals, a little filly named Applejack, and her older brother, Big Macintosh. Currently, she had one more due. She and Bright Mac had agreed on the name Applebloom." The names make me smile.
"But due to the new foal, she wasn't able to help around the farm as much anymore. Meaning Bright Mac had to work more to get more pay, and soon, he'd worked himself to the bone. He later became so tired that he died. I remember just walking to the farm one day to cheer him up but instead found a lifeless body. It devastated me, but of course, it devastated your mother even more.
"After your father had certainly gone, your mother had started eating less, doing less. Only Big Macintosh and Granny Smith were old enough to help her out. Soon enough, Applebloom had been born and Buttercup was feeling much better. But unfortunately, Bright Mac wasn't.
"He was feeling as sick as, if not worse than, ever before. Burnt Oak, your father's best friend, and I whipped up a cake to help cheer the Apple Family up, but it didn't help because by then, your father had perished. Forever. Over the course of about three days, we all tried and helped her feel better about losing him. By the third day, the big hole in all of our hearts that he had filled before was only a small scar. Even your mother, who was taking it the worse, had healed slightly. So the next day, I decided to try and cheer her up with another cake. But then I arrived to see a similar sight to the one I had four days ago: Buttercup was dead."
We both wince once she says that word. She even hesitates to say it, but I did want the story, so I now feel guilty about asking for it, about making her say the word. It's silence between us, and it's hard to take, so I start adding ingredients to the cupcakes at my hooves to pass the time.
"I eventually discovered that there was suicide involved. She'd jumped from the pole at the front of the barn, where Applejack often jumps from to feed her pigs. Except she'd tied the rope around her neck, to choke herself."
My eyes widen in shock. It's so hard to believe, yet it makes so much sense. I look to Mrs. Cake, who is deep in thought with tears, just like me.
"When I found she'd hurt herself like this, I was not only devastated, I was angry. Partly angry that Buttercup had terminated her life and left her friends and family suffering, slightly angry that Granny Smith wasn't able to help her daughter-in-law when she needed it, but most of all, angry that I had to witness any of this. And especially to feel this.
"Over time, the anger faded, replaced with a few other feelings, before I'd finally come to just accept the fact that Pear Butter was gone, just like her husband. I grew more distant with the Apples, and I wish I hadn't. But I was still rather close to your family, Applebloom, enough to watch the children mature. The best part was that they came every month or so to sell their Apple products.
"But it was impossible to forget Buttercup, and the impact she had on me and so many others. To think she's gone forever..."
I choke on my words as I see small tears slip from her eyes. My own tears start forming as well, before I decide to walk over to her and rest a hoof on her shoulder, comforting her. "I- I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to make you get emotional. I- I just wanted..."
She shakes her head. "Don't be. I never realized how much that bothered me, how much I needed to let it out. Besides, the pain has almost sedated by now. Thanks for the break, sweetheart."
I nod, thinking about the next pony I want to visit today. I slip the cupcake tray I was unconciously working on into the oven, turn the heat up, and it starts to bake. With a smile, I exit, wave, and close the door to Sugarcube Corners.
I thought of who I should find next, whose story I want to hear. I considered listenin' to another one of the Mayor's stories, but I realize she'll have work to catch up on, especially after the visit with her yesterday. I think to see if I can remember anypony else who knew them closely. That's when I realize the answer was in front of me all along. The ponies closest to Mom and Dad were their family, meanin' Big Macintosh, Applejack, Granny, and maybe even Grandpere Pear.
I rush back to the barn to ask everypony what they can remember about Mom and Dad's story. I confront Big Mac first, 'cause he's the oldest in my family who'll be willin' to talk about what happened. So I find him after a few minutes of searchin'. He's in the kitchen with Applejack, which is perfect, because I can ask them both at once.
"Applejack?" I speak up, gettin' her attention. "Big Mac?" They both turn to me while makin' sure to keep an eye on the food so it doesn't over-cook. It looks like we're havin' the special lunch today: flapjacks with whipped cream, and for lunch, too. I pull my eyes away from the food and look at them. "Do you know much about Mom and Dad's, uh, demise?"
They look at each other, concerned. "You wanna hear the story?" Applejack asks. I nod, hopin' it ain't too much to ask of 'em, especially since I'm sure they were really young when it happened. Applejack thinks for a moment, and then turns to Big Mac. "I got nothin' right now. You?"
Bic Mac thinks about it as Applejack turns back to the stove to flip more flapjacks. "Eeyup."
"You can tell me the story?" I smile softly. Although I know it's a hard story to tell, I want to hear as many different perspectives of it as possible.
He nods. "I was a bit older than your age when it happened. I remember seein' Dad disappear, and then Mom, too. I was devastated and, immediately, I blamed myself."
"I remember a few of them," Applejack jumps in. "You were like, 'If only I'd helped out more; Dad wouldn't have been so overworked. None of this would have happened.' All day, every day. It hurt to see my big brother in such a messy state," she says with a sigh.
Big Mac looks between the two of us. "Eeyup. I said I would keep every buttercup I found to remind me of her, because I loved my Mama that much."
"Well, who wouldn't?" I rhetorically ask before announcin' my real question. "What else did you do after both our parents passed away?"
"When your mom went through the same thin', I blamed myself even more. I kept tellin' myself that I should've helped her and dad, or at least have done somethin', anythin' to prevent the whole tragedy around me. I did it so often, I think it even gave your sister a negative influence."
Applejack laughs a little. "Well, I was probably a bit younger than you, Applebloom. I think I kinda remember what happened. He was stressin' out so much, and blamin' himself for so many things, and I think I started to, as well. Do you remember what happened, Big Macintosh?"
He gets all pensive and rubs his chin. "You started blamin' yourself for random things, like me. And then... you even said somethin' involvin' suicide that I won't dare mention in front of Applebloom." That makes me more curious, but I decide not to question it. There is a good reason Big Mac is keepin' this from me. "Anyways, you blamed yourself for a lot of things like I did, and sometimes, you blamed yourself for Mom and Dad's passin'."
"You were obviously the influence on me, right?" Applejack asks, gettin' a nod from Big Macintosh to confirm it. "So what did Granny think of it?"
"I'm not sure," Big Mac's voice booms. "I never bothered to ask, nor was I willin' to."
"Right," Applejack says as if she should have realized it sooner. "Because Granny would never be willin' to talk about it. What do you think she'd do if we asked her now? She's made up with Grand Pere and no longer thinks the past is such a big deal. Wouldn't it be fine if we asked her now that she's over that?"
I think it's a good idea, too, so I give Bic Macintosh the puppy-dog eyes that Zipporwhill and her puppy taught me. They were supposed to be pleadin' eyes, eyes that showed you really wanted something. Applejack didn't back me up, she just continued to flip flapjacks with a smug smile. "So?" I ask, impatient for an answer. "Can we ask her?"
Big Mac considers it for one final moment before finally answering. "Eeyup." I beam as I drag Big Macintosh away from the kitchen, into the livin' room where we should be able to find Granny.
"Granny!" I call out. "Do you mind if I ask you a question?"
Although her voice is faint, I'm pretty sure I can understand her just fine. "Alright, dear, just come up to the guest room and we'll talk."
I rush up the stairs, Big Mac followin' not far behind me, ready to hear what's probably the most detailed side of the whole story. "Let's hope Granny won't freeze up again."
I nod nervously. I do want to hear the story, but it'll be terrible if Granny starts stammerin' and stuff 'cause of me.
I open Granny's bedroom door and realize how rare it is for me to come up here. She and Grandpere are currently talkin' with each other, probably catchin' up on all the things they've missed over the years. "Hey, Applebloom. Did ya need somethin'?"
I nod and walk further into the room. Big Mac trails not far behind me. "Uh, hey, Granny. And Grandpere Pear."
"Hello, Applebloom," Grandpere replies. "What did you need, now?"
I take a deep breath and try to speak up and push my luck. "I, uh, wanted to hear your sides of the story of Mom and Dad's perishin'. If it's okay with you, of course."
Granny's eyes grow wide for a straight minute or two, and I swear she looked like she was right on the verge of sayin' "no" to tellin' the story and just forgettin' it like she always used to. I honestly wouldn't blame her for it; I think it would actually be weirder for her to agree than to disagree. But then again, we all have our moments.
I guess this was one of the moments I was talkin' about, because it's pretty much a miracle to me once she says, "Alright, dear, but sit down. I had and still have a lot of thoughts on this one."
I do as directed, and Bic Mac takes a seat on the carpet as well, on the right side of me and puttin' weight on me with his big hoof.
Anyways, Granny asks me, "How much do ya already know?" I tell her I know the reason for both Ma and Pa's death, and that I only want to hear her opinion on it all. She looks relieved, probably because she doesn't have to tell me about their death. Just her thoughts. She looks up with that nostalgic look in her eyes. "Well, ya see here..." she starts off.
Granny Smith stood at Bright Mac and Pear Butter's wedding place, the place where Grandpere, that stupid betrayer to family, had left his daughter to Vanhoover. It was very natural there; so many shades of green and such a bright sky, so many beautiful voices of birds singing their afternoon song. But despite the greatness of the Pear and Apple unition place, it was still not a great day.
She had just witnessed a private funeral, as private as their wedding was meant to be, one that Granny Smith obviously had a connection to. She couldn't take it. Her son and daughter-in-law were now in repose, and she wasn't sure how to feel about that other than depressed.
She wished there were something she could do to get her family back. Not just because raising three young foals was going to be hard, but because it was impossble to feel anything positive with some of your most loved ones gone forever. She didn't even despise Buttercup, who was a Pear, as much as she should have. If she had to be honest, she loved her like any mother would her daughter. But when that daughter is gone, the mother longs for their daugher even more.
Currently, Granny Smith just wanted a requiem for her children. But at the same time, she wanted solitude. They contradicted eachother, but she still wanted both. No one would disturb her as she tried to take in what had happened. She walked back towards the barn, very slowly, and arrived along while later although it was only a few minutes away. Though it was afternoon when she was last seen at the tombstones, it was now sunset and a late dinner.
As she opened the door, she saw her two oldest grandchildren playing a board game with each other and laughing. They were both snacking on apples, and even had Applebloom with them, on the couch. She was the youngest, hardly even two months old. But she was sucking on apples as well, and Big Macintosh, who was the oldest, was watching over her. He had only finished school a month ago before summer break had come, yet he was still very responsible and helpful every now and then. Applejack was the middle child, a young filly who used to have classes at the Ponyville Schoolhouse before they didn't have enough to keep sending her there. But she was lucky enough to stay there long enough to earn her cutie mark. And just in time, too, because everypony had always teased her about her blank flank; she was the last in her class to earn it.
Granny Smith tried to ignore them, but she saw a spark of love ignite between the three, and she felt as if she didn't need solitude anymore. And not only that, but the three having fun together reminded her so much of the way Bright Mac and Buttercup always played around together. It was as if they, together, were her memory. And it wasn't a bad one.
She continued to walk upstairs feeling drowned and still depressed, and Big Mac with his sweet personality, stopped her. "Are you alright, Granny?" he asked. "Do you want dinner or somethin' first, maybe?"
Granny felt the warmth of his words and heard the comforting in his voice. She tried not to smile, but it was hard. It was very faint but she knew it was there. "Just toss me an apple."
And then Big Mac chuckled, as if he was able to move on from everything. It was as if he were the example to her. She could see him trying to cheer her up. He stepped to the side to grab the apple for her, and she didn't expect what happened next.
"Ready to get tossed?" came the unmistakable voice of Big Mac. And then came a shriek and stifling giggles from Applejack.
There was a lot of clatter and laughing, and eventually, Granny Smith got curious and decided to check on what was happening. When she looked, she saw a big game of tag or something similar, and laughed for once. It had been so long since that had happened. "Granny, help me!" Applejack shouted through her uncontrollable laughing.
Big Mac snickered even more. "She can't help you; she wanted an apple to be tossed to her. Speaking of which..." he started once she stopped running. Then, he took the opportunity and picked her up. He swung her around a few times as if she were riding a big swing, and faked a throw to Granny Smith. "Granny, catch!"
Applejack was never flung from the air then, and surprisingly, she was having more fun than she was scared of falling. Granny laughed, too, grabbed herself a dinner of leftover flapjacks cooked by Big Mac, and sat down on the couch right next to Applebloom. With a smile, she broke a tiny piece of flapjack off and fed it to Applebloom, who was watching the scene as if it were a movie. Granny watched, too, and eventually, it got to the point where she joined in on a pillow fight with them.
They all were in a good enough mood by late night although, surely, Bright Mac and Pear Butter and their eternal slumber were on their minds. Granny brought out sleeping bags so that they could sleep under the stars, looking up at the ponies before them who had passed. That included Bright Mac and Pear Butter. Applejack and Applebloom were the first to close their eyes, and Big Mac and Granny talked with each other, conversing about stories about the stars and his parents. Soon enough, his eyes closed and Granny had the solitude she'd wished for. She was deep in her thoughts when she realized she wasn't too disappointed anymore. She'd come to accept, just with the heavy heart she would always carry around.
She opened her eyes, looked at the sky, and saw two shooting stars. With a smile, she fell asleep under her ancestors.
"So it wasn't too hard?" I ask. It sounds like she was able to do fine with a little push from Big Mac.
She shrugs. "Yer brother helped me overcome it. Without the constant reminder of joy from him, I probably would've died already; my life would've ended the same way yer mother's did."
I nod and smile. "I'm still here for you, too. I'm sure we can help each other whenever we need it."
That gets a laugh from everypony else in the room. "Lunch is ready!" we hear the faint voice of Applejack call from downstairs.
"Flapjacks," Big Mac informs them as all three of them walk out of the room. I slowly follow behind them. Once they're all out of the room, I stop at the door and look behind me. With a smile I spot a family picture. It's got Granny, me, Applejack, Big Mac, and even Ma and Pa. We're all standin' together like a happy family, with the exception of me, of course. I was hardly old enough to understand things like this. Pa looks a little tired, and Ma looks concerned, but we're still all together in the image. I close my eyes and daydream of life with us all together again. It's a perfect life.
I open my eyes again and rush down to the kitchen, where my family is all waitin' for me. Just like any good family should be. My life ain't perfect, but no doubt it's amazin'.
