Until I can See You Again

1

Cold wind brushed against my face, sending shudders up my spine. The graveyard was somber, many in black watching the coffin with shimmering eyes and clenched teeth. I stood close to you, trying not to let the tears fall like before. You seemed so peaceful, so content. Hair brushed back, in your nice suit. Glasses perched on your nose, arms at attention like when you were still in the army. My Hands clenched into tight fists, I tried to remember what I wrote for my speech, but it all seemed to melt together. All I could hear was your raspy voice talking to me on the wind, as if this never happened. As if you never died.2

They say people don't understand what Death is like until it's experienced, the ragged wound that never heals. As the bagpipes played mournfully and the soldiers stood nearby, honoring another army veteran that had passed on into the Land Above, I understood. Many relatives stood by, I stand by some I don't know. It's just too painful to look at the broken face of your son. My father. My throat and chest throbbed with the kind of pain that won't dull for many suns, the kind that keeps you up at night, gazing listlessly into nothingness. As the bagpipes faded away, people began to come up to the front, tearfully saying their speeches in front of loved ones and strangers. Some so grief stricken that they couldn't finish. My focus was lost until a nudge in my sides announced it was my turn. Clutching the piece of paper tightly in my closed fingers, I stepped up to the front.3

Regarding the eyes of pained individuals, I felt small. A child. Angrily wiping away the tears that began to form, I took a deep, shaking breath before addressing the small sea of black clothing, and pale faces. 4

'No matter when it was or what happened, you were there. When I took my first gasp of air, newly introduced to the world, you welcomed me with open arms. When I struggled for breath as my lungs refused to open in my toddler body, you drove me to the hospital as fast as possible in the dead of night. When I broke, as putting up a constant cold mask became too hard, you let me cling onto you, crying painful tears shamelessly onto your shirt. When everything seemed so screwed up, you gave me words of wisdom to carry on. Finally, when like many moons ago, I broke down again, grasping your hand by that hospital bed as if the whole world depended it, you murmured soothing lullabies into my ears, telling me that even though you'll have to leave soon, life would carry on. I would carry on.' 5

Pausing, I try and stop my throat from constricting. My voice, however, cracks slightly. Swallowing hard, I continue.6

'When your heart monitor went flat, I swear my Earth stopped turning. As if somebody took a big chunk out of me. You were gone. Clutching your still-warm hand, my eyes found it's way over to the calendar. Only a few more days..you left not even a month before my 12th birthday! I could've imagined the party, sitting at a large table, laughing and grinning at each other. But, I guess not. I wouldn't have that party, but I know you'd scold me on that, and say that even if you were gone, that's no excuse.'7

At this point, I stopped trying to hold back the tears, running warmly down my face.8

'I hope...I hope that you and Grandma have been able to see each other again, I know you were so torn when she left before you. Please, Grandpa. Wait for me. Then maybe, years from now I can hug you again, and everything will be alright. I'll be older, but still yours. I'll never stop being yours. Don't forget that.'9

I step down from the stand, my vision clouded with grief. Sitting somewhere with no others, I curled up miserably and tried not to sob. Slowly, my body numbed, and the searing pain turned into a dull throb. After that, nothing.10

Waking up, I realized that the funeral is over, but I hadn't been woken up to be taken to the car. Your grave is alone, nobody lingered, although it was dark, which suggested I had been there for a while. Treading gingerly over, I trace your name delicately. Grandma's is carved just above yours.11

Raymond Legault12

(1938-2008) A loved wife, child, mother and grandmother.13

We'll miss you dearly.14

Guy Legault15

(1936 – 2008) An old veteran who had many wise words to share.16

You'll always be remembered.17

Her loss is still fresh in my soul, and now yours is just cutting it deeper. As I leaned my head against the cool marble stone, a whisper of wind curled around my ear. It's sweet words seemed to murmur to me, just as you did before you died. Then, I detect a hint of a rasp within, identical to your voice, the one I committed to memory. Another joins it, a rich, soothing tone, higher and full of comfort. The voice that I haven't heard in almost a year. Jerking my head around, I searched for any signs that you were with me. The tendrils of air danced up, and the stars winked down at me. Two shone side by side, looking down at my small earthly form with a sense of protectiveness. A smile, the first since you died, tugged at my lips. You haven't completely left after all, and you've found Grandma aswell.18

Until we meet again where I can physically hug you tight once more, I'll always look for your brightly shimmering souls. Until I join you in the twinkling night sky.