Goodbye for Now
The car tires on the gravel was louder than I expected as the procession of cars drove through the cemetery. I hadn’t put much thought into it before, but in such a quiet place the tires could have belonged to industrial equipment and no one would have known the difference. A sea of people scattered throughout the graveyard watched us come in.
The car I was in came to a gentle stop. Clearly the driver was well-practiced and didn’t want to jostle me. I could hear the car doors opening and closing as people stepped from their vehicles. Some were bawling, their cries echoing through the field of tombstones, but most were quiet and reserved, only a handful of tears sliding down their cheeks from behind their glasses.
The exception to the quiet, sad, reservation of the group were Jim and Brad. They had been swapping stories throughout the wake, quietly giggling until they lost control and began laughing loudly. They hadn’t stopped, apparently, on the ride over from the funeral home.
“Do you remember the time he set his hair on fire with that blow torch?” Jim laughed, “He was freaking out so bad!”
“I remember for weeks after he was obsessing over whether his hair would grow back or not.” Brad added, joining in on the laugh.
As the casket was carried from the Hurst the did quiet down thankfully. I think it was the sight of it that sobered them up. I had hoped that they would continue. I missed the old days. I missed hanging out and having a good laugh. Most of all I missed them. Dying had been quick for me, and thankfully I hadn’t felt anything.
“You don’t have to be sad,” I whispered into Brad’s ear. “We had a lot of good times. I’m sure we’ll have more later. We just have to wait awhile.”