I use to come to this graveyard to visit you every week. The care takers here started to know me by name. They watched me cry standing here until I had no tears to cry anymore. After a while they saw me yelling at this block of stone. Yelling about how you left me, how I wish I had spoken up, and about how could you have caused this. I still believe that you had ventured past pot and started harder drugs. It took a while before I could just sit here and talk to you without so many emotions emerging while I sit here.
Mom came here as often as she could. It is hard for her to come here and see this stone. I still remember how she cried with her head resting on your flag draped coffin. It felt like years had gone by as I stood next to her trying to comfort her as she cried. In reality it was 20 minutes before we could maneuver her away from the coffin. She still cries every time she comes to this graveyard. Telling me how hard it is for her to come and see a grave stone with her son's name on it.
Joan would come on special occasions, but it has become harder and harder for her to come. Because she started the new job, and travels for business a lot, she does not have much time to come by. Our nieces have grown up, and have families of their own. I’ve made sure our nieces grew up knowing about your drug addiction, and their kids too. I believe they have never tried drugs, and hope I never find out otherwise.
Cyndi and Chad use to come once in a while. Cyndi is now an accountant, and Chad is an engineer. They waited several years before they got married. Making sure they were financially secure. Shortly after they got married, they started their family. They have three beautiful kids. You would have loved them. The two boys are just like Chad. Charming with good looks. The girl is just like her mom. Cyndi and Chad have both told me that once the kids are older, they will tell them the whole truth about you. This way they will know you. The good parts and the mistakes you made.
Ralph could not come. He wasn’t able to handle seeing Cyndi and Chad together all the time at USC. He spent most of his time drinking and doing drugs trying to forget them. After the first term, he was kicked out because they caught him doing drugs. His parents were able to get him into rehab, and we all thought the treatment was successful. He enrolled in the local college, and was doing fine until summer break. Cyndi and Chad had come home, and he ran into them at the local ice cream parlor. From what Cyndi told me, there seemed to be nothing wrong. The next morning his mother found Ralph hanging by a rope in his closet. A note was on the desk asking us to forgive him for what he did. He said that he couldn’t forgive himself for what had happen between him and Cyndi. The autopsy showed that he had a large quantity of PCP in his system. We believe he took it right before he wrote the note, and tied the rope around his neck. The service was been short and sweet, but his mother never recovered from finding Ralph that way. When you see her now, that sparkle is no longer in her eyes. She’s just a shell of a person, waiting for the end of her life.
It took several years for us to track done Gabby. She was still living in the same town in Germany. Not far from where she lived when I came to pick you up. Gabby did not seem to care that you had died. She was only wanted to know if you had a life insurance policy for her to get money from. We could never bring ourselves to tell you that she divorced you a year after you came home. Ever since then she has been trying to get child support for your daughter, Vanessa. I would send her money when I could after your death. I would even get a call from Vanessa on Christmas and birthdays after she received my gifts, and her mother received some money. Vanessa did travel here about a year ago to see your grave site. She had very few memories of you, but she loved to hear the stories. I never told her the whole truth about you. I figure her mother had. Now a days from the stories our nieces have told me about her, she has now started down the road you went down. I tried to talk to her about her drug use when I talked to her on the few special occasion that I can get her on the phone, but she chooses to not listen to me. Saying that she is watching what she’s doing and will be careful. I am not sure if I believe her or not, but she is now an adult and there is not much I can do.
As for me, my life has moved on. Shortly before you died my first marriage ended. I think it was a good thing because we definitely married for the wrong reasons. We did have to wait for the divorce until our daughter, Ann, was born, but shortly after our two year anniversary the divorce was final. I still remember the day that I introduced you to her. You held her, and had such a beautiful smile. I felt that you though she was your own daughter instead of mine. Ann still has the picture of you holding her. She loves that she has this to remember you by. Even though she does not remember much about you.
When I first started feeling the pains from fibromyalgia, I thought I deserved it for all that I had done wrong in my life. I thought that since I never spoke up about you, I deserved whatever pain this world was giving me. But that is not true. I did not speak up, but I have punished myself enough. You are free now, and so should I be.
After you passed away, I did not think I could love anyone as such as I loved you. But a year to the date of your death I meet Allen. It seemed like you had sent him to me somehow. He has the same spark you had, and can make me laugh even harder then you could. I slowly saw the hole in my heart shrink as I fell in love with Allen. So when he asked me to marry him on our eight month anniversary, I could whole heartily say yes. He hasn’t replaced you, but there now seems to be two of you in one spot. He has helped me to remember the good times we had together instead of all years of pain and guilt I had. My guilt is not gone, but I think of it less now.
I had stopped celebrating Valentine's Day for many years. We only celebrated it for the kids. No one ever questioned me on why I didn’t celebrate it, but Allen seemed to understand why when I told him your story. Then five years ago, I decided I was punishing others by not truly showing them how much I loved them on this day. So I slowly began celebrating it again. Every year doing a little more to celebrate the day. Now we celebrate it like we never have done before. Making sure we give presents to everyone, and Allen and I go out to dinner.
Allen has helped me with my guilt. He has slowly made me realize that yes, I knew about the drugs, but I am not the reason that any of this happened to you. That maybe I should have stood up and told others that you were doing drugs, but it was still up to you to not do them. Even if I had told Mom about your drug use, I don't think she would have believed me. You were her precious, sweet boy who could do no wrong. She would have thought I was lying to her, and would never have believed me.
I could have tried to talk to you, and reason with you to give up the drugs. But somewhere deep down inside of me I know that would have never worked. You were a strong willed person, and if you decided you were going to do something you were going to do it. No matter how much others did not want you to do it, or how much it would hurt us. I know you never meant to hurt us, but in the end that is what happened. You left us, and we have to pick up the pieces. I have been trying to do that for the last 15 years. Now I am to a point where I cannot pick up anymore. It is time for me to move on with my life. It is time for me to live the life I have always wanted. Twenty five years ago I put my life on hold for you. I spent years and years taking care of you. Then years and years missing you. Wondering what life would have been like if you were still here. Wondering if I made mistakes when it came to you. Wondering if I was the reason you are in the ground here. I can wonder no more.
Allen and I have decided to move to another state. It is time for us to fully start our lives. It is time for me to let go of the guilt, and move on with my life. In fact it is time to let you go, and let you be free. You will always be a part of my heart, and my soul. But now it is time for me to start living again.
The car is packed, and everyone is waiting for me in the car as I say my goodbye to you. You will always be with me my sweet brother. Our love will always remain. As I know you will watch over us always. But now it is time for me to say my final farewell. Be free my brother, and live forever in my
heart and soul. I love you and we will see each other again. Just not for a while. I have a life to begin living. Until we meet again, be well my sweet, sweet brother.
ABOUT THE WRITER
Robin Hebberd was born and raised in Las Vegas, Nevada. She attended the University of Nevada, Las Vegas where she received her Bachelors of Arts in Criminal Justice. She has been writing all her life, but just began publishing her work in 2015.
All That Remains is Love Page 8