To read The Sweet Ending, Part I, click here.
To read The Sweet Ending, Part II, click here.
The following is a work of fiction. In Three Parts serves as an opportunity to flex my creative writing muscle.
The days that followed my brother’s burial can only be remembered for the uncommon fog of confusion and disbelief that hung over our heads. One by one, like matches pulled away from the book, family members and friends returned to their lives. Unannounced visitors rang the doorbell less often. The phone returned to its daily cadence of solicitation calls from Medicare and insurance companies. Cards, flowers, and gifts in memory of slowed to a point of nonexistence. The weeks before felt like a deluge of rain. This felt like a drought.
Soon, I would be another match retreating elsewhere. On the other side of the map, my life rested on pause. My responsibilities and routines awaited my return. Somehow, the world expected me to continue living my life. Attempting to cope with this new normal would hang over me like a Seattle rain cloud. My brother would stay. Forward was my only real option.
In my absence, my parents would finally experience a deafening silence they had never known. All their lives, their home has known the noise of children. In this void, they would be expected to craft new memories, laugh, cry, and live a life. Such a daunting task should never be forcibly placed on any person’s shoulders.
And that’s what we did. Now, the days flash before us with a chaotic and jumbled rhythm. The calendar seems to roar with ferocity and an ending, bending toward a moment in time far removed from the day we said goodbye. With the passing of each day, grief remains a constant companion. The resonance of his voice is harder to remember. Though, not all is darkness. Good memories present themselves unexpectedly and like anchors in time. They are moments to be cherished.
My parents finally decided to write a new chapter elsewhere. Far removed from the toils of attempting to fill a home that knows such sadness with joy, they retreated to a new beginning. In doing so, they found as much joy and love as you can imagine. As they made their escape, they symbolically closed the book on a hell we never expected, but a hell we survived.
Be good to each other,
Nathan