“You don’t have to do this, you
don’t have to leave.”
------
That old log cabin, the rotting
dock, that even if I could still touch the bottom of the lake, I was not
allowed to swim past. That place was home, for the summers.
------
Liam is crying. I can hear them
yelling outside as Tori helps me gather my items, but all I can focus on are
the hands clenching my arms. Her wrinkly, dry, hands, showing their experiences
through the tough years, raising two boys, having her husband be away in wars;
the strength that they revealed.
------
I think that grandpa loved that
place more than any of us combined. Always up with the sun to complete the
daily chores before any of the kids were stirring and in that embracing water
before we could finish our breakfast. His whistles were all we could hear, just
teasing us as we helped grandma clear the table. Running out the door, we
always heard that familiar list of rules called out to us as we welcomed that
East Barrier sun.
------
I can barely see her face through
my foggy eyes but I can feel the confusion, I can feel the weakness in her
hands. I look down at my own naïve hands, pause and force myself from her
grasp, shaking off the second of guilt of running away.
------
Grandpa’s laugh and silly songs
about fishes in the sea rolled up those rotting stairs as we clumsily fell down
every other step, grabbing ahold of the railing we had come to be so acquainted
with after years of winding down the staircase. His childlike thoughts and
mischievous eyes were always the best part of that safe place.
------
As we were piling in the car I
didn’t look at him, I couldn’t. He was the only thing that held any comfort; he
was the only one that understood. Yet there was no way I would look into those
sparkling eyes, because I knew they were dull.
------
In a few years I got a call, and
emails, and many messages. He’s gone, is all they would say. All that I could
think about in that moment was the last time I saw him, the last thing he heard
and the last thing he witnessed. I could not believe that the moment had come.
4 am, life stopped.
------
I kissed my grandma. I told her I
loved her, and I ran. Grandpa just watched me run. I didn’t look back, I didn’t
say a word.
------
When I was present enough to
understand what was going on, I made it across that border as fast as I could.
Watching the men cry and punch the casket out of anger and fear I stood,
silent. It was when they left, I finally spoke. It was finally just him and me.
“You didn’t have to do this. You didn’t have to leave, yet.”
