In Her Absence

In an instant, everything changed.

She pleaded to stay, to no avail.

And just like that, she was gone. Yves was alone with the two boys and nothing but his memories of how lovely she had been.

His last sculpture, a wine rack, a gift for her, sat unfinished in his studio.

Jean's grief made visible.

Jean, the eldest son, took it especially hard. He painted this, a tombstone with a single flower, the day after she died. Instead of selling it to supplement their very short income, Yves kept it and hung it in the bedroom he once shared with Cora. It was a painful reminder, and more than once I saw him standing weakly before it, crying softly.

Jean even dreamed of the fire.

Yves, mourning in the midst of her garden.

The empty chair where she used to sit.

The finished wine rack.

 Eventually, he finished the rack. What had been intended as a gift for her was now sold. The struggling family needed money more than sentimentality. That being said, there was actually very little time for him to work, for the house still needed managing, and there was Rickard the toddler, who thankfully was too young to understand what had happened, or why his father and older brother were miserable.

Her beloved garden fell into ruin

 Despite his best efforts, Yves didn't have the skill with the earth his wife had, and her garden withered and died. Ironically, Life Plants, laden with fruit, sat unharvested, a painful reminder of what had been snatched from the home. Not that they could've saved her. I like to imagine, though, that they could.

His mother?

Much like his father, Jean threw himself into his work, painting almost tirelessly in between school and homework. His skill advanced quickly, and soon he became the primary source of (albeit meager) income for the family, as Yves was still too grief-stricken to do much more other than care for Rickard and perform the most basic of survival functions.

So, Jean painted.

And painted. I'd like to think the greenery was homage to Cora.

And painted. He was getting better.

Much better.

Incredibly better. Yves kept this one instead of selling it.

Yves noticing his son's talent. Not sure if that's admiration or jealousy on his face.

Rickard's birthday celebration

Letting the professionals handle it.

 

Rickard aged up, a quiet affair, a chair for Cora conspicuously empty. It was one of the most mirthless birthdays I'd ever witnessed.

The dishwasher broke again, but this time I stepped in and called a repairman. I was not leaving these two boys complete orphans.

Was this his representation of his wife?

 

Life went on, and fall moved into winter. Yves gradually found time for sculpting, but his grief still consumed him. He began sculpting the same statue, over and over again, no matter what material. I watched, partly in horror, partly in sadness, but mostly in morbid curiosity. When I play Sims I make a few decisions for them, but for the most part I leave them to their own devices to see what they'll do.  I didn't let him keep any of these statues, though. I was not about to let his grief cripple his ability to provide for his family.

The house, quiet, lonely, buried in snow.

Jean's work continued to mature as he aged.

 Because Yves was a workaholic, his lack of progress and income began to seriously gnaw at him. He had just aged from young adult to full adult, and with that came the Mid-life Crisis that plagues some sims, particularly those who aren't feeling particularly fulfilled.

His older son Jean had just aged into a teen, and although Jean was doing most of the heavy lifting in regards to keeping the family afloat financially, Yves had a crazy idea, and per my policy of letting them do their thing, I let him do his thing. Was this his attempt at regaining some semblance of control over his life? Was he trying to free himself of other responsibilities so he could focus on his work? Was he trying to give the boys a better environment so he could heal himself for a while? I don't know. I just watched while he did it, and I might've been a little sad. I don't know what his reasons were, I just know this was a very sad, lonely little family.

Placing the call in the bathroom like a coward.

He sent them to boarding school.  I don't know if he didn't want the boys to hear what he was planning, or if maybe he just didn't want to see their faces, but he placed the calls in the bathroom. I watched, wanting to stop but knowing this was their story.

The taxis arrived one cold winter's morning, early. The boys didn't even have time to finish their breakfast before they were whisked away to separate schools. He wasn't even allowing them to go to the same one, to have each other. I began to wonder if he was some kind of villain, if he was not the romantic artist I'd first taken him for. Or had the loss of Cora simply ruined his vision of the world?

Jean's room, now empty.

Yves, dining alone at that sad little table.

 He threw himself into his work, now without any 'distractions' or responsibilities. I had never seen a sim work so hard without complaining. He made, over the next two weeks, probably twelve or thirteen different sculptures. He sold them all, the household finances were finally in order. He furnished the upstairs, finally, filling out all the blank spaces he and Cora had intended to fill together. The boys occasionally called or sent letters; he never called back.

And quietly, just as the money improved, so did his 'lifetime happiness.' Normally I use the points to purchase something that will benefit their careers or make life easier, but this time, he had way more points than they usually did. I didn't even know what to do with them, so I picked a reward I'd never used before: the Dusty Old Lamp.

I don't know which expansion it's attached to, I guess you could google it if you're curious. All I know is it appeared in his inventory, and I set it on a side table for several days before I had the courage to get him to inspect the thing.

He did, a genie appeared, and I don't even recall what was on the rest of the list, because all I saw was one thing - one thing that would surely put everything back the way it needed to be. The one thing that would heal this poor broken family.

And so it was, in the middle of winter, Yves' cold, broken heart, finally healed.

And just like that, she was back.