March 11, 2009... Part 2

It took me a while to be able to write this. Reflecting back on tragedy seems to bring out emotion, and something to be thankful for. So let this begin. If you haven't read part 1 do so here: http://calmcadence.blogspot.com/2011/03/march-11-2009-day-i-dont-normally-talk.html

Friday March 20th 2009 -

I woke up around my family in a hotel room down near the outskirts of town. We hurried to get ready in the morning, being five of us in a room meant for two. I remember getting ready that morning not knowing what to expect in the few hours when we would make that walk into the church sanctuary. I put my cloths on feeling underdressed. I wore a white button up shirt with jeans. We grabbed our stuff and walked out of the hotel lobby. We then proceeded to our car tired and weary from the other day's journey. We pulled up to the church, parking fairly far away because of the many people at this memorial service. We walked past the funeral car (I forget the name), and then into the foyer of the church. The spirits were up a bit from the previous day, but still everyone was sorrowful and full of greif. Perhaps the most shocking thing was seeing all of the people that came to the event. Too many to count in fact.

We went in to the sanctuary to find seats; there I remember sitting on the very outside of those red chairs on the diagonal left side. The stage was in plain view and so was the casket. The smell of flowers filled the entire room with an unforgettable fragrance. The service began, with music playing and preacher preaching. It wasn't exactly what you would expect. Somehow with all people, God and death are related, but that in itself is a whole other subject. The slideshow of my cousin's life in pictures began to play. As the pictures grew closer to the end of his life the tears began to flow more intensely. Then began the family members giving a speech. It wasn't of persuasion, because death of course is certain. They told what they remembered of him. They spoke of the good times. Even some of the bad. There was no way a grown man could even control a tear from falling. Yet I was far beyond that point. My throat was swelled up, as I was gasping for air, bawling my eyes out. I was only 14 years old at the time.

The palm bearers then began the treck to that fatal trunk of the Cadillac. The car drove away with the blue casket with red roses and a hedge of flowers on top. The close family and friends arrived at the cemetery. Some knowing already what to expect. The last words of the family were hard to bear, but saying good bye was the hardest part. Click, click, click, click, click, click was the only noise made when we watched the grave be filled. Everyone began walking away. I was there still, staring, wanting one more glimpse. Colin was there, and so was Caleb. I remember that moment as we stood by, with looks of helplessness on our faces. We walked away and went back to the house. Alcohol was on mostly everyone's legal aged minds. I could see why.

The mood was definitely better the rest of that Friday. The confirmation and closure were complete. It was time for jokes, stories, and laughter. Not like there hadn't been before, but they were just more prevalent. Some individuals went for a walk to a wildlife preserve near by, however Colin and I had other ideas. We went on top of the roof, for absolutely no reason at all. Heck, why not? It was the beginning of going back to normal, however normal would always have a huge, gaping whole in it. Time doesn't erase scars, it simply hides them from the mind. However there is always newness in Christ. Tragedy shapes the character, morals define it, and love makes it.

-Kale