• Tears That Won’t Come

    Strength comes from the faith that one has deep inside and the bonds that someone forms with their precious people. Strength helps guilds us into a world that can be so damning and damaging that we may fear to tread any further. With the bonds we form with those precious people we can walk forward, not being unafraid but cautious and trusting that those who care about us will catch us should we fall. If that strength is something that you lack, have never received or have lost it is hard to find it again and can take days, months or years to find what makes you strong once more. This is true for one girl, who at the point of great happiness watched it shatter before her eyes.

    Emmy stared at the ground, dressed in a simple black skirt and silver blouse as she buried her best friend, pillar of strength and parent. Her hair was swept up into a bun that even the wind couldn’t pull apart. Her eyes, as empty as the hole in the ground, stared into the brown depths as the minister said the last remaining words and invited those who wished to put flowers atop the polished oak urn that contained her father’s ashes. She felt dead inside, unable to cry as she watched one of her friends who known her father weep into her aunts arms. Emmy felt resentment had being unable to cry as her friend was even though it wasn’t her father being buried. People around her closed their eyes, held each other, cried and whispered words of love to a man whose body and soul no longer existed on this earthly plane. She watched as the urn was lowered into the ground, her mother crying with such agony that she felt her own strength slowly evaporate from her body. Her thoughts felt scattered and lost, blown in all directions by a wind that suddenly stopped.

    The sun mocked her this day, she wanted it to rain, to turn into a terrible storm so strong that it could blow her away, take her away from all this. More tears, words of “I’m sorry,” and “I wish I could bring him back.” She hated those words more than the pitying looks she got from those who had come to the funeral. She hated the fact that while everyone was able to move forward she was unable to even though her feet moved toward the car taking them to the reception. She sat down in the car staring out the window with empty eyes, watching the scenery of cemetery pass by in a blur of greens, grays and reds as others visited loved ones long passed. In the span of a moment she was sitting in the car staring at the Legion Hall where the reception was taking place. There were many cars there already, many belonging to people to who had known her father. Someone opened the car door but it took her a moment to register that someone was there at all.

    “Let’s go,” it was the voice of her mother’s close friend, and an honorary aunt to her. She put a hand on Emmy’s shoulder and guided her out of the car and then took her mothers hand and led them both into the hall filled with many who didn’t make it the burial or the service. She felt empty, lost, angry, and bitter all at once. She hated that her some members of her family who had made it to her uncle’s funeral a month prior couldn’t make it to her fathers. She masked her emotions in such a known manner, something she had grown accustomed to. Food was laid out in an amazing spread, meats, fruits, cakes, cookies, sandwiches and fruit punch laid all around the table.

    “Take mom to sit down,” she told her mom’s friend, “I’ll get her some food.” She moved quickly to the table and joined the line making her mom a plate. She took it to her mother and was pulled off into another direction where two of her own friends sat, a red head who said her hair was more brownish, and a brunette. Both were a fair bit shorter than Emmy, she had taken on her dad’s quality of height. They both looked at her with concern in their eyes, concern she didn’t wish for but appreciated all the same. The brunette was named Alice and the red head was named Angelica. Someone took her hand, a short blonde woman and pulled her to the spread. She was forced to get a plate of food and sat down again. Pain ached in her very soul but she tried her best to smile even though it hurt so much.

    “I’m going to miss him,” Alice told Emmy with a teary gaze.

    “We’ll never forget him,” Angelica replied, “I’ll miss his baking a lot.”

    “No one could bake like dad,” Emmy smiled remembering the heavenly taste only his baking seemed to possess. She tried her best not to let the smile fall and her friends seemed to notice.

    “I bet you can’t eat three plates of food just like that,” Angelica said pointing to Alice’s plate. Alice looked at her with a defiant grin.

    “Oh , I’m pretty sure I can,” Alice replied, “I’ll buy you a pop if I lose and if I win you buy me one.” Angelica shook her hand and the two started eating. Emmy couldn’t help but relish in this carefree moment, forgetting that her father wasn’t there and wouldn’t be coming back. She was brought out of her illusion when someone tapped her on the shoulder and told her how sorry he was and wished things had been different. Alice and Angelica didn’t seem to notice and for that Emmy was glad. She forgot where she was for a moment and what she was doing because an hour had passed already and Alice had won the bet so Angelica had to buy her another drink. They left the table leaving Emmy alone with her thoughts.

    It hurt so much to think about. She was just a budding young adult, starting college in September. She hated the summer, not just because her father had died but because every year someone in the family died in this particular season. She hated it because she had asthma and it hurt to breathe most days. She hated summer because it was so hot that her hair would frizz. She hated summer because she hated summer. These thoughts gave her mind something else to think about, something not so painful. It was vain and stupid but she didn’t care, she wanted to be vain in this moment.

    She was so sick of two of her aunts telling her that she had to keep an eye her mom, be strong for her. Why did she have to be strong for her mother? Why did she have to be strong for someone else and that it was her job! Why couldn’t someone be strong for her? Why couldn’t someone hold her up and let her cry and bring her food because she was so lost even motor functions ceased to work. No! Everyone was trying to be strong for her mom; her friends were trying to cheer her up. Damn it! Why didn’t they understand that she didn’t want that? She didn’t want to be cheered up she didn’t want to be told she had be the strong one, she wanted to cry. She wanted to scream at a world that would never answer her cries. She wanted to yell at the doctors that her father had never gone to see. She wanted to yell at her dad for being so stupid that he didn’t look after himself. She wanted to yell at God to bring him back, to fix things that couldn’t be changed or fixed. She wanted to yell at herself the most because of the fight she had with him three days prior. She wanted to yell at herself for ignoring her best friend, mentor and parent for those three days but she couldn’t and she wouldn’t because she had to be strong for her mother who looked as if she could break the moment you touched her.

    Silence had become her friend, her ally and her new best friend. Her friends couldn’t understand because they all their dads and moms. Her mom was so upset she didn’t dare risk telling her, her aunts would tell her to be strong for her mother and her mothers best friend, Ginny, was trying to be a support. No, she could and would deal with this all on her own. The reception came to a close and Ginny helped her mom into their home, which was now empty and cold. She went to her room and hugged her pillow tight to her chest willing herself not to cry because if she did it would prove she was weak. She had to help her mother get better.

    Why did she have to? She had no choice.