I’m so grateful to Evelyn. She brought me into their family with open arms. No judgments. Just warmth and happiness and smiles.
Once the funeral was over, we went back to the house. Herman still wasn’t able to sleep in the bedroom where his wife passed away. We were all grateful that it was peaceful.
Helping my mom in the kitchen making something for all of us to eat, she nudged me and asked, “How’s Patrick doing?”
Shrugging my shoulders, I let out a breath. “He’s sad.” I shook my head. “I just don’t know what to do. I’ve never lost anyone before.”
“Just be there for him,” my mom whispered. “In some cases that’s all you can do. As badly as you want to fix this or change this or do something, the only thing you can do is comfort him.” She took the knife from my hands. “I’ll finish cutting the lettuce. Why don’t you go see how your man’s doing?”
Looking over at my mom, I kissed her on the cheek. “Thanks, Mom.”
As I walked out the front door and ran up the stairs to our apartment, I wondered what I was going to do. I walked to our bedroom where I knew Pat would be laying down. I heard sniffling and instantly my heart saddened. I hated seeing him like this. If I could I would take away all of his pain. There’s no doubt in my body. I would take away his pain and sadness, fears and nightmares.
I sat down on the bed. Patrick was facing away from me, curled up in a ball. He hadn’t even changed out of the suit he wore to her funeral. Placing a hand on his back, I trailed my fingers up and down. I listened to my mom. Words couldn’t really do anything in this moment, so I gave him intimacy instead. I gave him comfort in my touch.
Laying down on my side, I wrapped my arm around Patrick’s waist. I was relieved when he pushed back into me, wanting to feel my body up against his. Kissing the back of his head, I said, “I love you, Patrick and I’m here for you.”
Patrick moved around in my arms so he was facing me. His face was red from crying. His eyes were puffy. His nose was dripping. His hair was pushed up in all directions. His lip quivered. “I know, Derrick.” He attempted to give me a small smile. “Thank you.”
“You have nothing to thank me for, Patrick,” I said as I shook my head. I looked into his eyes. “That’s what love is. You’re there for the person through the good and the bad.” I cupped his face. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Whispering, Patrick said, “I’m not going anywhere, either,” and gave a reassuring smile. Leaning into me, he lightly kissed my lips. As he pulled back, he gave me another small smile and started to turn back around in my arms so he was facing away from me.
Laying there, I couldn’t believe the struggles the two of us had faced. I knew that I would rather go through a life of struggles with Patrick than any other life. I loved him. That would never change. What made us different from other couples was that we had faced struggles only few have gone through and we came out of them together. That’s what made us beautiful.
Epilogue
Patrick – 1 month later It’s been one month since my grandma passed away. It’s been pretty difficult on me and Gramps, but with Derrick’s help and the help of his parents, we’re slowly getting back to normal. Words couldn’t describe how elated I felt when his dad came around. I knew it would kill Derrick if he and his dad never had a relationship again.
I was surprised just how fast his dad came around to liking me. While his dad explained the rules of football, lacrosse, soccer and baseball to me, I helped him with his wardrobe, picking the right colors that worked best with his complexion, how to shape his eyebrows, and choosing the best fitting jeans for his body type.
I was so happy that we were now a family. I just wished that my grandma could have been here for it, too.
I trailed my feet against the grass as I walked over to her. This is the first time I’ve been here since the day of her funeral. I needed time to heal before I came here. Holding a bouquet of her favorite flowers, daisies, in my hand, I walked over to her grave. Stopping in front of it, I read the plaque.
Evelyn Christiansen – an angel from God A beloved mother, grandmother, sister, friend.
Tears start to fill my eyes. I just miss her so much and I wish she were here. But I know I have another angel looking down at me from heaven. I know that she’s with my mom and dad. They may not be here physically, but they are mentally, without a doubt.
Every time I pour milk into my coffee, I hear my grandma in my mind asking, “Really? That’s just not right.” She thought putting anything into black coffee was a sin. Well, I committed that sin quite a bit.
Getting down on my knees, I place the daisies next to her grave. Sitting down onto the grass, I start to twine the blades between my fingers. I look down at them and feel the softness. I can feel tears lightly falling but I don’t wipe them away. I’m thinking of what to say to her.