LMC

It's hard to think back to those days.
Those days when I thought I would never stop crying.
I guess I never really have stopped.

Thinking back to those days that linger in my mind like a nightmare.
Two years ago I lost my first close friend.
And images that I have never seen before still burn in my eyes.

It's not like this was my first funeral.
I've seen many family members waste away from age or illness.
Sometimes it seems that death is the best way.
Not this time.

This was not like any other visitation I had been to.
Instead of acceptance and grief, anger and disbelief fell over a room full of questions.
No words had to be said. As I stood in a group of my friends that filled half of the room.
We stood silent. Someone else walks in and the circle breaks up into an explosion of hugs and tears.

I remember your mother.
I didn't know who she was at the time but it didn't take me long to figure out as she fell to the ground in front of your casket.
People scattered around to help as someone brought a chair to sit her on.
For the rest of the night she sat there holding your hand as if she would never let go.
A sight so hard to watch. As if you just heard the cracking of her broken heart echo throughout the room.

I remember Kyle walking back into the room after he disappeared.
I'm so glad you brought him to us. A great addition to our crazy camp family.
He was holding his hand. In an emotionless frozen stance just staring.
As if the pain from the brick wall and broken heart could never hurt as much as seeing you like that.

Rows of our camp family sit to say goodbye. People line the room, shoulder to shoulder.
Guess I never really stopped crying.

L.M.C.