Malee struck a match and held the flame beneath the soaked twine until the fire danced along the ring. The sides of the simple box lantern glowed, revealing the markings written on each side. Each side held a name and each name held a lifetime of memories. For each of them were a part of her.

Preeda had died when they were young. All Malee could remember of her oldest and favorite sister was a joyful smile. Every memory contained those perfectly white teeth. She was always smiling. The thought of her spread warmth throughout Malee’s now weathered features. She found her own smile again, but it was never as big as Preeda’s.

Sunan was the name of her child who had never seen sunlight. He was her second son. He passed away, softly, in another hospital room while Malee sat in her own and listened to doctors tell her she would never have another child.

Arthit, her first-born, passed away in a truck accident while returning home from work late one night. Malee had been on her way to visit him in America and meet her future daughter-in-law. Instead of a wedding, she spent the two weeks arranging his funeral. She had not seen Arthit in two years.

Somchai was with her as they buried both of their sons. He gave her strength enough to endure that heartbreak while he endured the loss of his sons alone. God tested her when Somchai died. Takotsubo cardiomyopathy. Three years ago.

Malee lifted the lantern and let it slowly drift into the sky joining the thousands of others that bore the memories of the living. Bright stars against the night. She knew that, as the lanterns crossed beyond her world, her family would find their names and know that she was okay. She knew in her heart that she would be seeing them soon.

Mark made the decision the day after his wife’s funeral. Within two weeks, he had sold the house and everything in it. His friends called a few times. A few even stopped by, but Mark was always out. They only discovered he no longer lived there when the new owners arrived a few weeks later.

Home had been whenever he was with Emma, so giving up the house was easy. Leaving his friends was a different matter. He debated for some time whether or not to let them convince him to stay, but he knew that whatever time he spent with them now would be overshadowed by the loss of his wife. They had all loved her too.

He wouldn’t trouble his children by becoming a dependent in their home. They were all grown and busy building their own families. The closest lived halfway across the country anyhow. He would still visit them from time to time.

This wasn’t some grand gesture, or him losing his mind to grief, though many might see it that way. He briefly troubled himself about how to break it to his friends, but realized that he didn’t have to. They each knew him well enough to know what he was doing. He was making this journey to discover not just new places but new versions of himself. He was no longer a married man. At least, not in this mortal plane.

The Mark who lived happily for 46 years, who created a family with two boys and three girls, and who worked 38 years for the same company was buried with his wife outside St. Paul, Nebraska. The Mark currently flying over the Pacific was someone new. He had no obligations to anyone or anything. He was just searching for his place in the world. Searching for who he would be without her. He was scared, but he was still alive and had to do something with the time he had left.

The rattling faded away into nothing as Gerard finished his third drink. He’d never been fond of traveling, but he found the train entirely tolerable with a tumbler of whiskey. It helped him relax and let his worries fade away.

Gerard preferred to travel in solitude. He’d found an empty cabin and pulled out a book to distract him further. The luxury of his loneliness was lost when a woman entered his cabin. He was miffed she hadn’t asked his permission but didn’t want to invite conversation so remained silent. He stole glances from behind his book. She paid no attention to him and he began to resent silence.

“Who are you?” he finally asked, putting his book down.

She smiled. For better or worse, Gerard found himself smiling back. Silence was no longer an option, and he was surprised to find he preferred it that way.