It was a Wednesday afternoon when it happened.
All seemed fine when I woke up for school. I went to school, first to guitar class, then to study hall, and then Spanish. It was a weird homeschool program I must add, but lets not get side tracked. This was March 11, 2009. Two years ago. I remember the day quite clearly. I got home from school and ate some lunch. Around 1 or 2 I went outside on my back patio and was shooting my newly acquired pellet gun.
My dad received a call. The next thing I knew he came outside to me, walking from his office, which is off on the left. He had the most terrible look of helplessness. A look you would never want to see. It was a man’s weakness. Nate died. My 28-year-old cousin.
I didn’t really know what to say. I hear my brother say “WHAT?” as if in shock. I look down at the ground and start shaking. I didn’t cry. It was as if I really never knew what happened. Death didn’t mean much to me at the time. I really didn’t know what it meant.
We all sat around looking at each other with looks of fright. You could just feel something in your heart wasn’t right. I couldn’t focus the rest of the day. I thought about it for days. A few days later my parents left to go on up to Idaho where the parents of my cousin lived. AKA my aunt and uncle. I was home with my brothers. We really didn’t talk a whole lot. But what we did talk about was some of our memories.
Time had come and gone. My head was full of thinking. Not crying, but thinking. As for others, I am sure there were tears. Lots and lots of tears.
Wednesday March 18, 2009 – 9:00 PM
I guess you could say this was the longest day(s) of my life. At 9:00 at night we left for the 16 hour drive to Boise. With some stops along the way, we made it there at around 3 in the afternoon the next day. We drove all through the night. I didn’t sleep very much in the car. We talked, listened to music, and complained. The sunrise of that Thursday was the most beautiful day I think I had ever seen. Off to the left, there were snow-covered mountains. To the right, a valley and more mountains. We were in Utah, and the night had finally gone away.
We stopped only for gas and food. We kept driving, despite the lack of sleep. The drive was long and boring. But the scenery was there to keep us company. We made it to Idaho. I remember seeing the side of the roads with a thin layer of snow, and passing onward, deep gorges. It was a journey, and a lot to take in. It was something we all never experienced.
We made it to the hotel we would be staying at, and met my mom there, as she was already there. The lobby was nice, with the elevator off to the left. Unfortunately our room was above some automatic sliding door, which made a racket. I didn’t care. After that night, no one cared much.
We got cleaned up and fiddled around for a little bit. Then we left to go to Nate’s viewing. This was the hardest thing I have ever done in my life.
We parked off to the right, sort of far away. As we walked closer to the doors of the funeral home we began to see relative’s cars. There were people I didn’t know outside. We walked in. Off in the distant corner lied poster boards of pictures, at least three. To the middle left of the room were couches, which were filled with people. To the back left were another set of double doors. To the right lied another room. This is where everyone dreaded to go. This is where the tears finally started to flow. I went and said hello to many family members and friends. The mood of the gathering was somewhat eerie. Everyone was dressed up, all with frowns and tears. I looked through some old photo albums that were over by the couches. This is when my throat started to swell. The moment when it finally hits you. The realization that it was actually happening. Everyone was there. There was no going back. There was no miracle ending.
(I would advise not reading the next part if you are sensitive to what happened that day.)
I walked into the room on the right with my mom. There he was, dressed in his hoody. A quilt draped over half of his casket. Flowers were all around. The smell of flowers and death. It’s not something you forget. I see his crying fiancé in the corner next to his body sobbing. She was a total mess. There were more pictures in there. The story of his life, in pictures, were all laid out for everyone to see. It was March 19, 2009, and no one gave a damn. No one was worried about what would happened next. I walked over and touched his cold dead body. That was the hardest thing to ever do. I was crying. I was crying hard. It was real. After that harsh realization I went back into the other room, trying to stop the tears. I sat on the couch. My eyes began to dry. As I sit there I watch my aunt and uncle, I watch everyone. I can see so much emotion. So much grief. Enough grief to flood a city. After a while we left there. We went to my aunt and uncles house.
There was beer there. There was also In-N-Out that we had brought from Bakersfield the day before. That lightened the spirits of our family, as we had not met up before going to the funeral home. Meeting on a bad note is a hard thing to do.
I was dead beaten tired. I had been up for more than 24 hours. That night my cousin Colin and I drove down to his youth group, in a corvette, I must add. (It was nice being able to enjoy something while in such a bad situation) I met a lot of his friends that night. They new what he was going through, and you could tell. Loosing your brother is not easy. We blasted the sound system on the way back to his house. I would try to take both of our minds off of the matter at hand, by laughing. We were actually laughing a lot, which was a very good thing.
The next day was the funeral. Friday March 20, 2009.
I’ll finish this next time I write.
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