Memory Documentation

chapter thirteen | documenting life's real monsters

By the time I was finished, Chris had scooted himself to my side. Shoulder to shoulder. Temple to temple. I was too much of an embarrassing weepy mess to fret over his closeness. I needed his warmth. His strength. So instead, with the hand that he wasn't holding, I played with the end of my braid and waited for him to speak. He cursed a couple times. Opened his mouth to say something, then closed it again in silence. When he spoke again, it was barely above a whisper, as if anything louder would shatter the fragile bubble that's weaved itself around us.

"I'm sorry, Darce. I... I don't know what to say," he murmured. "It's just..." 

"Horrific. Heartbreaking. Tragic. Just... Fucking awful?" I finished for him. "There's not even a good enough word."

I didn't even know what to say when Papa first told me. I was thirteen. It was the anniversary of the day it happened. There was a suffocating tension in the house. Suzie stayed in her room all day and didn't come out until the next day. Papa laid in bed for most of the afternoon, then took me out to dinner. He told me at our favorite Thai restaurant.

For so long, I'd been shielded from the truth. Cloaked in ignorance. But we're not kids anymore. Monsters are real, but they're not the storybook type that hides behind corners and lives under our beds. They live within us, and they go by several names. Mourning, heartbreak, tragedy, loneliness. Each person has their own one – maybe even multiple. And we're all just constantly trying to fight it from taking our light away.

I shook my head and kept my gaze on a corner of my room, knowing that behind those walls lay Papa in his bed, alone – when once upon a time, he wasn't.

A guttural groan of frustration escaped me then as my eyes welled once more. I was so tired of crying. I hated mourning. I wanted to rip the bad feelings from my body and lock it away so it could never find me again. But I know that's not how life works. I could never make it all right again. There will always be pieces of our hearts that are lost with the loss of them. But maybe we can still hold them there. Perch them on the edge of the hole in our hearts. Never filled, but never empty, either.

Filled with a sudden rush of resolve, I swiped at my tears and stood to face Chris. His eyes were filled with pain, but also concern.

He won't say no. He won't.

I held on to that hope and continued. "Right. So about the dance partner thing. Papa and Evellyn's wedding anniversary is the same day as Papa's birthday."

Chris's eyebrows rose in surprise. "Oh, they were that couple. Whose idea was that?"

I couldn't help the tiniest quirk of a smile. Papa and Evellyn's story wasn't all tragic. "I know, cheesy, huh? It was her idea. She loved him so much, Chris. He says she claims to have loved him ever since they were in middle school together. Believe it or not, Papa was actually quite the golden boy back in high school. She caught his attention at a party once, with all her –" I shimmied my shoulders playfully – "killer dance moves."

Chris threw his head back in a laugh. "Oh, really?" he teased. "And are these killer dance moves what you're asking me to do with you?"

I shook my head, not knowing what kind of moves must have reeled teenage Papa in. If they were in any way seductive or sexy, then absolutely count me out. "Think less 'let me show off to win you over' and more..." I shrugged. "More 'you're the love of my life, won't you dance with me?'"

Realizing quickly how this may have been coming across, I pushed on. "Well, anyway, I want to recreate their wedding dance. It's a waltz. Evellyn choreographed it all herself, and Papa used to have me stand on his feet as he would dance it around our living room. I have no idea what the moves are, and I may not even be able to pull it off, but –" I sighed and clutched a hand to my aching chest "– I just want to carry this special piece of Evellyn with me. I want that dance to live on in me and not just on a VHS tape that may break or get lost. And if Papa's memory starts to fail him, I want to be able to remind him.