Though They Didn't See

Waiting…1

That’s what I have to do… wait.2

I vaguely listen to the attempt at cheerful talk coming from the small circle of chairs. I hate pretending. There are times I don’t even try.3

Such as now. I have retreated to the outside of the circle. Back here I don’t have to pretend, don’t have to wear a mask. I don’t even have to fake the occasional smile as the small talk flows around my many times deaf ears. I only act happy when I’m around those whom I need not further burden, the ones I’ve turned to too many times before. I know they’d care and welcome me with open arms, but…4

I just want them to leave me alone. I don’t like talking about it; though, I know they say you should. It’s the regrets that burden me. I think back… wishing… I feel I barely know him; I feel I know him less than anyone else. It all came so unexpectedly. If only I would’ve known… known that the end was coming. If only I would’ve lived every moment with him to the fullest… but… I didn’t. And now… my heart is darkened and heavy with regret. It’s better for him to go now, though, because even if he would pull through, he wouldn’t have the quality of life he would want to live. But if only he could get better, even if only for a few months. Then I could make up for all those times I let pass by.5

But waiting for me tomorrow are people to whom I will soon be saying goodbye. I’ll have to pretend to be happy; because that’s the closest I’ll be able to some to actually being happy. And happiness, complete, blissful happiness is all I long for.6

Slowly, the masks are beginning to break and fall away, only to be put back on, now cracked, cracked enough for the tears to slip through.7

If only I could be alone. Then my tears could fall freely. But here, I feel forced to hold them back, to sink away to the corners so I don’t have to pretend. Though, in a sense, I am pretending. I don’t talk unless I have to, but I still hold back, and in a sense hide what I’m really feeling. Privacy… I want it badly right now, probably even more so than happiness, because I know that happiness can only come after the sadness has passed. I want a dark corner… alone… without anyone.8

I went back, back to his room with my brother and sister. I cried as I clung to Keith’s arm. I saw a group of my aunts and uncles standing around his bed, singing. I listened to the sweet old hymn as I stood behind them crying, still clutching Keith. I couldn’t see him, my grandpa, but I didn’t want to. I had seen him a few days before but knew he looked much worse now. I didn’t want to see him like that, didn’t want to remember him like that. I just wanted to be with my family.9

…Now… the wait is over… and I saw him. I didn’t want to. Yet, I guess part of me did, because as I turned to leave, I looked back one more time. I’ll never forget what I saw… ever… I saw his face… his still and silent face, but only from the side. The color of his face was grey… not like it used to be.10

But now I’m at home, alone, and it all seems so far away, almost like a dream. A bad dream, from which I’ll never wake. I could almost pretend it was a dream except for the pictures in my mind. I see my brother and sister cry and my aunt Sandy hugging someone as tears run down her face. I hear and feel my Grandma sob as I hug her. She’s all alone now. She has no one to go home to, just a big, empty house. And then I see him… and I remind myself that he went peacefully to a better place without a struggle, and the last thing he heard were the voices of his sons and daughters singing. And after their voices faded away, I’m sure the voices of the angles filled his soul. May he rest in Peace and wait for us to join him in Heaven.11