I want to text her or run after her to be by her side as she faces this day, but I wait, keeping my hand steady on my knee so that I don’t vibrate my way right out of the truck with the way I’m shaking.
Nearly an hour later, when I’ve worked up some courage and after I’ve seen dozens of unknown faces enter the building, I slowly step out of my truck and walk towards the funeral home with one driving thought … I promised Alex and I promised Alyssa.
She may not want to see me, but I made a promise to her that night we got back together, to be here for her every step of the way. We may have hit a very huge roadblock, in the form of her overly-obsessive and scheming roommate, but I just don’t buy what Bethany is selling. Unless she caught it on video, I’m done believing for even a second that I could have done that to Alyssa, drunk or not. I’m going to be here for her and I plan to be there tomorrow when she has to see her father laid into the ground. That’s the worst part of it; seeing that casket lowered into the ground is like having them ripped away from you all over again. I squeeze my eyes shut with that thought and take a calming breath before opening the door to the funeral home.
The sounds of chatter greet my ears and the whole place is already swarming with most likely family, friends and coworkers of Alex’s. My head goes fuzzy, replaying sounds I heard years ago. Shaking my head to rid myself of that memory, I scan the room, looking for faces I know, but I don’t see anyone familiar.
One foot after the next, I walk quietly towards the front room, where I finally catch a glimpse of Alyssa through the crowd. She looks run down and exhausted. Her eyes are a pale, glassy blue and her cheeks are lightly blushed, beautiful. I suck in a breath and wish above all that I could somehow toss her a rope, a life preserver, anything to hold her up because right now I know she is drowning. I know it all too well.
Body after body crashes into her, wrapping their arms around her in a compassion-filled, genuinely concerned hug, but it won’t be enough. Keeping my eyes locked on her, déjà vu creeps up and gives me a slap in the face as I remember Tristan doing the same thing. Jake and I sat silently in the pews, staring off into space. The place wasn’t packed, but there were a few people mingling through. I couldn’t even look up at the casket, but Tristan never took his eyes off it. It was as if he was a guard dog defending her. I never realized until now how worn down he was that day; how defeated and empty he looked.
“Hey stranger.”
Flipping around, Abby throws herself to me and I instinctively give her a firm hug.
“Hey. Are you hanging in there?” I whisper with my chin braced against her forehead.
“I guess,” she sniffles then slides back out of my grasp. “I’m just tired and just …”
As she blows out a heavy breath, the hair hanging over her forehead breezes outward before fluffing back down.
“I know,” I say softly. There is nothing I can say or do to help them. “How is your mom?” It’s a silly question, but basically like everything that is said at a funeral, I say it anyway. “Is she holding it together ok?”
Abby lets out a sarcastic laugh, “Oh, she seems great and it scares me. She has seriously been like a rock, like concrete; she is not breaking. We are all falling apart every five seconds and there she is, smiling, greeting everyone, thanking them for coming.”
Her eyes fill with tears as she goes over her mom’s behavior like it’s wrong or possibly because she knows it’s just a wall that will eventually come crashing down, crumbling and potentially burying her alive. I’ve always thought that is how Tristan dealt the day Mom died. He held it together. He was a tower of strength, but then a couple weeks later he went MIA, off the grid and I haven’t ever seen my brother again; not the Tristan he was before she died. That Tristan died as well and I’m not sure if I’ll ever see him again.
“I don’t think Alyssa will be able to go up and say goodbye to Dad.”
My heart hurts as I look back at her, still lost in a sea of people wanting to comfort her.
“It’s important to say goodbye, but that’s not him up there. She was there with him when it mattered.” I stop talking and think about what I just said, then glance back in the direction of Alex’s casket, seeing an entirely different scene. The time you have leading up to a death is what matters; all those little moments that seem so insignificant at that time. Suddenly, a weight I’ve carried around for years seems lighter, easier to tolerate. “Abby, your dad was always so graceful in a conversation. He always knew what to say and how to put it so that everyone could empathize with what he meant. I think …” a smile ticks within me as I say aloud something I am just now discovering to be true for my own life. “I think he used that same grace when he left this world. If he could have chose … I don’t think he would have chosen to leave while you were watching, so you all would have had to see that. He waited. He left this earth in peace.”
Abby’s eyes bubble over with water until they slowly drip down her face in a stream of tears. She smiles with a small shaky laugh.
“He left while Mom laid by his side. That’s how he would have wanted it.” She frantically wipes the tears away with her hand and then throws her arms around my shoulders as hard as any linebacker I’ve ever been up against.
“Whoa,” I laugh quietly, crushing her in a strong embrace.
“Thank you, Judd. I hope you know how much he loved you.” She moves away and looks at me with warm eyes and a grateful heart. “He was always talking about you with Mom,” she pauses, looking at me intently, as if she’s just discovered something. “Give her time, she’ll come around. She has to.”
With a deep breath, I smile, feeling renewed for so many reasons. After a few minutes I take off, ready to say my own goodbyes if I can. I walk slowly, barely able to put one foot in front of the next until he is in sight. Not even two feet away from the casket, sitting at the front of the room surrounded by a monstrous menagerie of over-powering fragrant flowers, and my heart is hammering. I don’t step completely up; I stop as if my feet are welded to the floor.
Alex doesn’t look like himself. His kind, loving, sometime mischievous smile that always brightened his face is no longer present. The twinkle that sparkled in his eyes when he would look at his daughters and wife is also long gone with his eyes being sealed shut for eternity. I glance down to his hand, still and silent across his waist. I remember how when he would talk, his hands were just as loud, motioning back and forth along with his stories.
As if a volcano just exploded, my heart tears open and I can’t hold back the tears any longer. I step forward two more steps and my hands find his joined, warmth-deprived hands as I softly rest mine above his.
“Goodbye, Alex. I promise, I’ll take care of her and love her forever just like you loved Angela,” I whisper to myself as I hear a few people shuffle behind me.
Taking in a large breath, I pull my hand away and quickly move across the room with my eyes planted on the tiled floor. I count square after square in a desperate need to escape, even though I need to stay. The weight of it all is falling onto me and I’m struggling to stay upright. My shoulder hits something and I glance up.
“Hey, Judd.”
Looking up, I stare right into the face of someone I not too long ago loathed, but yet today his face is a welcoming sight. He glances over his shoulder and I see Alyssa slumped down into a pew. He stares at her, as do I, then he turns back to me with a shadow of guilt in his eyes.
“Ummm, have you talked to Alyssa?” he asks uncomfortably. He knows the situation.
“No. I’m afraid it will only make things harder today.” He nods, both of us throwing a look in her direction. “Hey, listen …” I cannot believe I’m going to ask this of the one person that could potentially steal her away from me. “Ummm … ahhh …” Just spit it out. “Would you maybe go sit with her? I want to, but I just think it may cause her more grief at this point. I mean, just make sure she’s alright,” I say it even though my head is yelling out what a fool I am.
“Sure.” Kyle slaps his hand against my shoulder and crinkles his eyebrows. “Are you sure you don’t want to give it a shot and go talk to her. She may surprise you.”
I glance back over and watch as she nervously fidgets her hands along the hem of her skirt while staring down to the floor.
“I know, but I don’t want to chance upsetting her. I’m not leaving …” I make sure to add this just in case he gets any ideas.
“I will.” He nods with a look in his eyes that tells me that I can trust him with this. “I’ll go sit with her and try to keep her mind off of everything,” he pauses before going on. “I hope you get this Bethany crap straightened out. Hang in there. You’ll get her back. She needs you.”
With that, he heads over to the pew she is slouched down in, gives me one more glance with a heartfelt smile and slowly sits beside her. She doesn’t look back or pay too much attention as he talks to her, but I can tell that she is welcoming the distraction. Tipping my chin up so that I can get a look at their hands, my heart eases as I see he is keeping his hands to himself. I may trust him with this, but I’ll always be leery.
Instead of going home, I stay in my truck parked a little ways down from the funeral home. It’s as if I’m back to the day I got out of the hospital, sitting outside her house and waiting to see if she pulls up.
Staring down at my phone as I toss around the idea of calling Tristan, I catch movement from the corner of my eyes. My head snaps up and I see her. She looks lost, exhausted and barely still standing. I don’t waste a moment pulling out my phone. I may not be in the position to hold her when I want to, but I can work around that and still be there for her.
Me: Just Breathe! Close your eyes and feel my arms around you! I’m here if you need me. I love you! ( )
“Just breathe” is something I overheard my mom tell Tristan many times when they were unaware of me and Jake’s eavesdropping.
“Just breathe when you think the pain is too much.”
“When you’re unsure of what to do or where to go, just breathe.”
I watch from afar, marveling over her beauty as she looks down at her phone and sucks in a breath. She doesn’t look around and it’s then that I am grateful that I chose to remain unnoticed.
I don’t leave, I don’t move, I just stay in my truck until night falls, thinking over everything from the morning after the Halloween party, to the night Alex passed, to what will happen tomorrow and whether I will be able to handle watching another person I love fall beneath the surface of our world. All the while my heart keeps beating and my lungs keep refilling with new air as time goes on. Somehow, I always thought the Earth would stop spinning once you were enveloped in pain and grief. I guess Mom was right when she told me “God never gives you too much to handle.” And just like back then, I know I will keep moving and keep breathing, for Alyssa, I’ll do anything.
THE NEXT DAY, I climb out of my truck parked nearly in the same place Tristan parked years ago. Walking across the dried out, slowly dying grass littered with fallen leaves, I stare at each of my footfalls wondering if they are landing in the same spots they did back then.
“Just keep walking, Judd. If I can do it, you two can too.” My brother’s words echo through my mind, sounding emotionless and already leaning towards the point of the Tristan I know today.
Slowly pulling my chin upright, I look out towards the black canopy set up over Alex’s grave spot and I instantly see Alyssa, Andrea, Angela and Abby all huddled together as a pastor speaks kind, praise-filled words.
Smoothing my hand over my white button down shirt to the waist of my slacks, I straighten out the fabric, grateful that I arrived undetected. I come to a stop under a large leafless maple tree about fifteen yards away and watch, still unable to hear all the words that are being spoken. In the distance, as if a voice is calling to me, I look over to my mom’s plot, a place I barely visit, yet I’m in this area nearly every week. I guess, in a way I view her grave as her death, whereas the wishing well I see as her life. When I go there, I feel her all around. Looking at her headstone and the words that were delicately engraved on it, I’m overwhelmed with the dark finality of her life.
It doesn’t take long for the entire mournful ritual to wind down and people slowly start to trickle off to their cars. At last, my eyes fall back to the five people that remain. Angela is crouched on the ground near the grave and that impenetrable wall that Abby saw in her mom is at last falling to bits, piece-by-piece.
Moving my feet at a hurried pace to get to them, Andrea and Abby fall to the ground to support Angela while Alyssa stands back, frozen. As soon as I see her sway and begin to fall back, my feet blaze over the ground to catch her. She lands in my arms with her back to my chest as I easily wind my hands around her small frame to pull her closer, as close as I can.
“I got you,” I whisper as she looks up at me through tear streaked eyes. I’ll always catch you. “Let’s help your mom, ok?”
She nods, using my arms to support herself as we both move forward and squat down by Angela. For an immeasurable time I stay close, afraid to let go of Alyssa. I trail my hand over her back, up then down again in a loving attempt to let her know I’m close by. All four of the girls shake and quiver as their sobs fill the air. Alyssa’s arms wrap around her mom’s waist much like mine did hers as I stand, moving back to give them room to grieve as a family. Greg, Andrea’s husband, moves back with me and we both stand side-by-side, helpless and heart-sick for the ones we love.
I look past the girls as they weep to see the casket make its descent into the crumbly ground with the soft humming sound of the lowering device to serenade it, along with the ocean of tears from the girls that loved him. A few roll down my cheeks and drip from my chin, dampening my shirt, but I don’t try to hide it. Greg’s hand lands on my shoulder in a tight grip and I look over.
Nodding his head, he presses his lips into a straight line with a barely-there smile. “Thanks for coming.”
I clear my throat and nod back to him, unable to speak just yet. My head is whirling and my heart is on a roller coaster of emotions. Alyssa stands and slowly walks backward until, she gently and purposely bumps into me. I don’t even think about what I’m doing before her hand is already clasped in mine, with our fingers woven together like they were meant to be sealed together for eternity. Time clicks away as I hold tight to her and keep a watchful eye on her mom and sisters. Eventually, everyone begins to compose themselves and make peace with the fact that Alex will not be leaving with us. It hurts my heart to think of that because it seems like only yesterday that I stood crumpled on the ground by a gravesite myself, yelling out for Mom to please come back. I couldn’t scream loud enough and my brother’s were the only thing that kept me from diving in after her.
After waving goodbye to everyone, I take a profound breath about to let her completely into my soul, somewhere I’ve let very few people, but in the end I love her and was being honest when I told her I want to share everything with her.
“Do you feel up to taking a walk with me?”
She’s hesitant at first, but agrees. We walk hand-in-hand, with her clinging to my arm as she always has, but I can tell she’s preoccupied and so am I. Two people I love now live here. A part of that gives me comfort, thinking maybe Mom and Alex could become friends or watch out for us together. A silly thought, but it still brings me peace.
At the edge of the cemetery and only about fifteen yards from Alex’s grave, I come to a stop with Alyssa gently thudding against my body as she stares in the opposite direction. I don’t look over at her, instead I stare straight forward, the recognizable emptiness of loss burrowing into my heart.
I clutch Alyssa’s hand tighter in my grasp and she squeezes back, hugging closer to me possibly to hold herself up or maybe to hold me steady.
The sunshine was brighter because you were here. The corner of my lips tick as I silently read the inscription that we had etched on Mom’s stone. I glance up and note the clo
uds in the sky, carefully hiding the sun as if all happiness has been drained from the air today, and just like the day she was buried.
“Mom, please … please … Mom, don’t go,” the echoes of my voice ring in my mind, taking me back.
Jake sobs beside me with my jacket wound up in his hand for security. He gasps and squeals at times, trying to catch his breath, but I can’t help him.
Suddenly, when I am two seconds away from dragging the casket away and refusing to accept that she is gone, another set of arms find me. For a minute, I close my eyes and pretend they are Mom’s; her arms before she lost mobility, back when she gave fierce hugs that made everything better.
“Jake, Judd, let’s go and let her finally rest,” Tristan’s voice chimes in my ear, cool and calm as if it’s just any other day.
I know she had a long battle and was sick for so long. “We can’t leave her by herself,” I huff, craning my neck over my shoulder to look at him through foggy eyes.
“Just come with me, I have a surprise for you both,” he smiles, making Jake and me both quiet our cries and stare at him completely curious.
Shaking my head out of my daydream, I look around remembering how that day through all the misery and grief, it didn’t even dawn on me where we were; so many details from that day have been lost, maybe even blocked out until now. I smile, thinking over one single significant detail, before looking back at Alyssa.
“Come on.” I pull her with me towards the fence that rises up at the edge of the cemetery.
She doesn’t question my motives or stop me, just follows along, looking around much as I did back then. Once we move past the small park, recognition sparkles in her eyes and a bit of happiness emerges that makes the hole in my heart mend a bit. She holds to me tighter as we step onto the beautiful pathway that my brothers, Mom and I created around the fountain and remains against me as we sit at the bench.
Catch My Breath Page 50