seeing double. (jerry baynard)

|6.5|

Gabriela

     The day my father died, I had been out, doing god knows what. My memory of that day before the news is still blurry.

I had just entered the yard through our gate, when I heard Ms. McKinnon screaming for Gilbert. I then saw my brother proceed to run towards the house, and just like that, I knew.

Although they hadn't seen me yet, I dropped all of my things and began running towards the house as well.

Upon entering our home, my intuition was right. Gilbert and I were orphans.

Ms. McKinnon was the first to start crying.

But, I think her tears were mostly for Gilbert and I.

I fell to the ground nearly immediately, Gilbert sat down and hugged me, we stayed like that for a while. I began sobbing, I remember that.

Gilbert, he didn't cry right away, or in front of me at all, instead he cried that night, in his room.

Alone.

I wanted to go talk to him, I had been plagued with insomnia after all. But, I knew Gilbert needed to figure this out on his own, so I let him be.

I made a cup of tea after hearing him calm down, I knocked on his door to give it to him. Upon seeing me, he gave me a tight hug, took the tea, and shut the door again.

The next morning the tea cup sat outside of his room, empty. I took it downstairs and cleaned it. Gil came down a few minutes later, and the rest of the day was spent quietly preparing the funeral. The two of us talked a bit from time to time, about our favourite memories with our father. And then about our favourite memories with our brothers. And then about our mother. Or at least, what we heard about her, and how badly we wished she was here with us now.

The day of the burial, was awful.

The walk to the graveyard was quiet and dreary. Father would've hated it.

I don't remember what the minister said during the eulogy. I wasn't paying attention.

All I could focus on was the pitch black coffin that laid in the ground. That was my father. I would never see him again, I never hear his loud laugh again. This was it. It was all over.

When everyone left, Gilbert and I stayed, we watched as the ground keeper begin to shovel dirt into my fathers grave. As he did, it started to snow. Father loved snow. So, I suppose it was fitting, in a way.

Gilbert chose to stay at the graveyard longer than I.

Before leaving, I squeezed Gil's shoulder gently, and then proceeded to make my way home, aching to get some sleep. But, I realized all to quickly that such a thing would not be happening, at least anytime soon that is. Everyone had found their way into my home after the burial.

Maybe this was better than being alone?

After about five minutes, I realized it definitely wasn't. I was on edge with all these people staring at me, giving me looks of sympathy, and supposed words of 'encouragement'.