AncilChapter 22: Endings And Beginnings
There was now a void in my life that could have only been filled with Samantha yelling at me and telling me what to do.
I didn’t want to cry. I tried to keep it together but I would then remember moments that I shared with her and I would then start weeping uncontrollably. Moments like my 16th birthday party at my house. Samantha was the first person at the party and she helped my mom with the decorations and food. She was quite the chatterbox and she and my mom gossiped the whole pre-party. My mom really liked Samantha and even urged me to make her my girlfriend but that task was easier said than done.
On the day Samantha died, I ambled to the front door of my house and knocked. I had the keys but I couldn’t find it in me to turn it. The closer I got to the door the more I thought about Samantha. My mom, seeing me for the first time since I left to Trinidad, opened the door and instantly threw both her arms over me, consoling me as I wept.
Then came the funeral. It was a typical funeral to the world watching on from the outside but it wasn’t a typical funeral to me and to the dozens of people sitting among the pews of the church as her casket was perfectly propped at the front in between the aisles.
Everyone looked sad and somber as the service progressed with some people breaking out with loud wails. I didn’t blatantly cry out loud but I was a waterfall of tears on the inside which occasionally seeped through my eyes and all over my face, more so when I heard the speeches made by her loved ones. My natural anxiety disallowed me from going up to the stage until the very end when the reverend asked if there was anyone else who would like to speak.
I sauntered through the aisle to the stage in the same manner that I sauntered to the telephone when Samantha called me to invite me to the Don Hummers workshop. While on my way up I caught a glance of Samantha’s lifeless face in the casket. I had never seen her so still in my entire life.
When I got to the pulpit my brain went blank for a second but only long enough for a stream of tears to fall down my face. I closed my eyes for a while then started. “The thing I always loved about Samantha was how strong she was. She always knew how to get what she wanted and there was very little that could be done to stop her. She was relentless in her ambition. She wanted an education, a job, a family and a full life. She was incredibly close to getting what she wanted but a few months ago something happened that changed her life forever. She became pregnant. Pregnant with a child.” I paused for a moment eyeing down the crowd who all had their attention fixed on me. “My child. Most of you may not know this and I’m assured that Samantha tried to keep it under wraps because not even her mother knew about it but I knew. I knew that there was a baby on the way and I knew that she got an abortion. It was that abortion that killed her inside both literally and figuratively. And the thing that’s killing ME inside is that I had the power to stop her from getting that abortion and I did nothing. It was because of me she went back to her alcoholic ways. It’s because of me that she’s dead and I don’t care if anyone holds that against me because I won’t be able to forgive myself if I didn’t publicly stand here and admit that. She’s dead because of me. My awareness of that tears me apart but I can still find a glimmer of hope with the knowledge that her happily ever after is now in a better place.”
After the funeral, life went on as usual. The earth still spun, the sun still shined and the flowers still bloomed. Nothing changed. The regular everyday proceedings of the world seemed to mock me with its glee-like effervescence. Everyone and everything else looked completely fine. People were smiling and laughing with joy while I was gloomy and under the weather over the death of my best friend.
The night after the funeral I sat on the roof outside my bedroom window and looked over into Mrs. Dean’s house. She wasn’t at home but I still stared blankly at her yard, remembering Samantha. I wasn’t crying but I was distraught.
“Ron!” My mom shouted from the distance.
“I’m on the roof.”
My mom made her way through the window and was rambling on about something to do with the dangers of sitting on the roof but it all sounded like gibberish to me.
“I heard your speech,” my mom eventually said, sitting next to me on the roof.
“Are you here to arrest me?”
“For what? It’s not your fault that she’s dead. You didn’t hold a gun to her and force her to drink. It was her choice.”
“I might as well have put a gun to her head instead of having her suffer through an abortion.”
“Again; her choice. Everything that happens in your life is as a result of the choices you make. Consequences are never coincidental. They are usually a direct result of the bad choices you make.”
“You sound so sophisticated right now,” I joked.
“I’ve been living with Shakespeare for 19 years it was only a matter of time before I started talking like him,” my mom said.
I laughed.
My mom laughed as well but after a while her face got a little more serious then she said, “I just don’t want you beating yourself up over her death. Move on with your life. Don’t make the same mistake I made when your father died. I held on to the past and refused to move on. Savor the memories of Samantha but go out there and make new ones. Start new adventures, start a family with the woman that you love. Don’t let Samantha’s death stop you from getting to her.”
“Her?”
“Kate,” my mom said.
“She’s all the way in the Caribbean. I would have to leave you again.”
“If she makes you happy, then you shouldn’t let anyone stop you from being with her, not even me.”
I smiled and gave my mom a hug then said, “I love you mom.”
“I love you too son.”
