Page 3 of Final Goodbye
Who could do such a thing? Who in this world—in this town—had such low morals that they would hit my father’s car hard enough that hedied…and just leave him there to bleed out?
I wanted to fucking scream. I had the urge to break everything in my line of sight. But I looked back at Chase, who was grieving the loss of our father and trying to wrap his head around a tragedy like this at such a young age. The sadness in his eyes brought me back to reality. I couldn’t react with the anger that I wanted to, not in front of him.
I needed to be strong for him.
I was always the strong one. The oldest child. The independent one who didn’t have a single fear of leaving this place behind and fending for myself. I’d spent my adult life not being loved in the ways I wanted to because, as my mom always said, I didn’t need her. According to her, I was so self-sufficient that I was okay doing life on my own. She spent so many years parenting Chase that she forgot about being my parent the moment I turned eighteen.
I needed my mom.
I needed my dad.
But I needed to be strong more. Mom was here, and I’d have a conversation with her eventually. I’d unload all of my feelings, but for now, I needed to be here for Chase and set aside my feelings just one more time.
After the long night I had, after receiving that life-changing phone call, I was able to fill in some blanks. The only problem now was… I had more questions than answers.
I was left aloneto my thoughts as I spent my first evening back in Alpine Peak. The house was quiet, and Chase was in his room, hopefully getting the sleep he needed. But I assumed he was playing video games to distract himself instead.
My mom was well aware that I had arrived. Since I hadn’t seen her yet, I sent her a text message that I was home. Her read receipts were on, letting me know that she knew I was here, even though she didn’t seem to be up for any conversation at the moment. She’d been silently locked up in her room the entire time. It was almost like she called me here, not to make sure I was okay, but to have me take care of her and my brother so she could mentally check out, leaving all the responsibilities up to me.
It was selfish if you asked me.
I was happy to help, knowing she was going through it right now, but we all were. We all had the same shit to work through in our own individual ways. But there were still so many questions I needed answers to. Plans that needed to be made.
A funeral? A memorial?I didn’t even know what my dad’s last wishes were. My mom was the person with all of that information. I couldn’t shake the feeling of frustration brewing inside me. I was the kid, but I felt like the parent right now. I didn’t want to think about whether or not my dad wanted a funeral and have to make those types of decisions.
I wanted to be the grieving kid, working through my emotions and not blocking them out.
The thought was depressing, but that’s what happened when someone died… You had to have someone who was willing to take the reins on planning a funeral.
Someone had to keep it together.
And it seemed like I needed to be that person.
I didn’t have the chance to go to the grocery store today, so instead, I ordered some pizza and cleaned up the house a little, starting with the guest room. My old childhood room—now turned into a guest room—was what I’d call my temporary home. Feeling like I took a trip in a time machine, I looked around at the furniture that lined the walls while I took inventory. Same full-sized bed, same dark wooden dresser, same desk I used to do all of my homework at. Other than the furniture, everything else had changed.
Posters and pictures I used to have spread across the walls were now taken down, giving the room a plain and neutral look. The closet was full of my old keepsakes, packed away in boxes. The room was erased of my memory, with no trace left behind that I once occupied this space as an adolescent.
The doorbell rang, pulling me from my thoughts about the past. I left my room and made my way downstairs to answer the door, the delivery guy on the other side. With the hot pizza in hand, my stomach began to growl, realizing it had been a while since I last ate.
Bringing the pizza into the kitchen, I made up plates for my mom and Chase. In the past, we were the type of family to all sit around the dinner table and eat together, but tonight, that wouldn’t be the case.
I walked upstairs with their food, stopping by Chase’s room first. Just as I had figured, he was playing video games and would most likely eat while he gamed. He accepted his dinner from me, and even behind that sad smile, I could tell he was grateful that I was here.
My mom, on the other hand, had her door locked. My knuckles rapped lightly on the door to let her know I had dinner in the fridge if she got hungry later. When she didn’t respond, I followed it up with a text, repeating myself, just in case she was sleeping and didn’t hear me the first time.?
I sat at the dining room table—party of one—and finished up my greasy pizza while I waited for the bed sheets to be done drying, so I could get back to freshening up the room I’d be sleeping in for a while.
The stale and dusty odor made me wonder when anyone had last stayed in here. It smelled like it had been years. I lit a pine-scented candle and cleaned up the room I’d sleep in, doing my best to make it feel cozier. After all, cleaning always helped my mind stay distracted.?
There wasn’t a TV in my old room, and I needed something to occupy my mind to stop it from racing. After I made my bed, I opened up the closet to see what old items of mine my mom had held on to. There were mostly boxes of old trophies and awards, pictures, and other mementos.
Looking through old family photos wasn’t exactly the first thing on my to-do list to take my mind off the passing of my father. But maybe it would help spark some emotion within me. Now that I was alone, and the tragedy had time to sink in, maybemy body would finally allow me to cry. I could let it all out, even if I didn’t know all the details surrounding my dad’s death.
As long as I stayed strong in front of everyone else, I was allowed to have my moment here, all alone in this crusty room, looking through old photos.?
I was mostly sifting through old birthday cards addressed to me and Chase, but there was one that stuck out over the others. My old high school graduation card from my dad. He would have given this to me just before I left Colorado to chase my dreams of being in the big city in Phoenix.
I opened it up, and it had some generic message about graduating high school and being on to the next big thing, but it was the black cursive handwriting that caught my attention.?
