Skipping Stones - COMPLETE

Chapter 22

TWO DAYS LATER

SLEEP WOULD BE nice, but it will have to wait until some of this hoopla is over. The visitation was last night, yielding a steady stream of people bringing more food than we'll ever be able to eat. I laugh as my thoughts wander back to the food. I know my grandmother feeds the stray cats on the sly. They'll be feasting on leftovers for a long time. We'll become the Caesar's Palace Buffet for all of the neighborhood strays. It will be delightful...and great entertainment. I sigh.

When I hear the faint horn blowing signifying the morning train that has been coming through this town at the same time every morning my entire life, it reminds me of the morning he left. That was the morning we moved out of my house in North Carolina.

Squeezing my eyes closed, flashbacks flash before my lids of him. Times from the creek when we were younger, Afghanistan, and the couple of times this week. Opening them causes the visions to stop, which is good because I can't deal with him today. There's no time. Then the worrier in me lets my mind wander to a place where he leaves me again. He just decides that he doesn't want to deal with my moodiness, that putting himself out there wasn't worth the risk, and he just leaves. It makes my stomach feel sick.

The problem is in my anger, frustration, and shock. I never thought to find out where he was staying, to get his phone number, or anything. I could just kick my stubborn self. The only difference this time versus last time is that I finally have his name. That is, if he's being honest with me. That's why they were never able to locate him after the explosion in Afghanistan. No wonder I always hit a dead end. I was looking for an alias.

Saying a quick prayer, I hope that he's still around when this is all over so we can at least gain some closure. Right now, I have a funeral to get ready for, and the emotions I've been holding back while acting strong for everyone and their brother come gushing out of me. I gather my robe and head to the shower, which will hopefully muffle my cries from Memaw.

***

"THANK YOU ALL for coming today," I whisper into the microphone. My chin is already quivering and I know that speaking is going to be so hard for me. Still, I have to do it.

"Every funeral I have ever attended, I attended with my Papa. He was always there to hold my hand, to allow a shoulder for me to cry on." I pause and let a lone tear escape my eyes. "He was my strength when I had nothing left in me, when I was an empty vessel floating adrift at sea trying to find my way through stormy waters.

"Once I asked him what I'd do when it was his time. I told him there was no way I'd be able to get through it. He squeezed my hand, and he told me he didn't know either. Looking back, how morbid was it of me to ask him what I'd do when he died? I think it was actually at his brother's funeral. All I could think about was the fact that it hurt so badly to lose people that I wasn't even that close to. I'd already lost my parents. I just couldn't fathom losing him. He was my rock, my everything. He was the one solid thing I could always count on without fail." The lump in my throat is growing as I choke back the sobs. I can do this, though. I can do this. He deserves this eulogy. I need to say these things and have them count.

"But after he said he didn't know, he glanced at me with his big brown eyes...my dad got his eyes, which meant I also inherited them. It was like looking in the mirror at my own. He whispered to me, 'When the time comes, you'll get through it.'

"I shook my head. There was no way. And like so many times in my life before, it was something that I couldn't comprehend. 'No, I don't think so, Papa,' I replied." I pause again. This time focusing on the back door, pretending I can see him grinning back at me. It's strange, but I feel his presence.