Nov 26, 2016

Sky Pilot, Chapter Four

Sorry for the delay, all my fault, here's Chapter Four...

Chapter Four

I got the news on Monday night.

I was at Ashley’s house to meet my parents because the Fraternity House isn’t always the best place for parents. My folks were late, but my mom loved to stop for every historical monument, every tourist trap, every wide spot in the road on the way. This time they were the reason people stopped. The road was curvy. She loved roads that curved and rolled, my dad hated them. He liked them straight and fast. According to the Highway Police my dad tried the worst of both; he was driving fast on a curvy road.

The damage to their vehicle didn’t look like it hit a big animal like a deer. Maybe my dad dodged to miss something. At any rate, he sideswiped some sort of sign and that led him into a large tree. They were dead before the fire caused by the accident engulfed the scene.

They were an hour past due when the Highway Police found us. An hour was not too late for my folks, so I had only begun to worry about them, still. The doorbell rang and I went from slightly worried to numb in the time it took to open the door. I let out a cry that made God himself shudder.

Ashley and her parents came with me to the hospital, the morgue actually. The good Reverend drove. I cried. The wailing had passed for the moment, but I was a mess. Everything was all planned, everything was all laid out. We were going to finish school. We would get married. We would find a place to live. We’d start classes. Med School and Seminary were both three year programs so both of us would be living, loving, and studying our tails off then graduating just in time for internships. There would be time for family. Our parents would become grandparents. The future was in front of us and then mortality slaps me in the face and says “Good evening and remember, if you need anything just call…”

This week was supposed to be about joy and celebration. It was going to be a time for families to come together and gel. It was a time for two families to come together to become one. In love, in marriage, in joy; one and one make one! With my parents gone though, what I was planning faded. It all took a back seat to grief. I planned to propose over dinner Friday night, now that’s when the gathering begins. They were burned so badly there will be no viewing.

Of course we couldn’t leave for a couple of days. The Coroner’s Inquest took a day to make its preliminary findings. Nothing could be fully signed off until all of the toxicology reports were done and that would take a couple of weeks to get the results, but everything looked decent and in order. There was enough paperwork to choke a small horse. Thank God for the ladies of the church, there was always more than enough food and drink. Considering the fire, cremation was the only way to go with their remains.

I spent the rest of Spring Break on the phone with my parent’s friends, loved ones, and distant family. Some called checking on arrangements. Some called to see how I was doing. Some called to offer condolences. Some called to say “how awful it was when their Uncle Phil or Auntie Em or Sister Sue, or whoever it was died” and “I’ll get over it just like they did.” Those were the worse of all. The best were the folks who came by with a beer or a bottle of scotch and told funny stories about the folks. Ashley would sit by my side and rub my shoulder or my thigh and moments would be passable.

On Friday we took the cremains to my parent’s place and scattered them in the hills. I just thought they were called ashes, but no, cremated remains are called cremains. I never knew that. Who did? There was a brief hillside service. There’s a plaque with their names and dates of birth and death in the columbarium at the church. Columbarium, I didn’t know a wall of cremains had a name too. I don’t know why it bugged me, a “grave,” a “hole in the wall” with nothing in it. It did though.

I could put gloves in there, maybe a spare set of keys. At least then it would serve a purpose greater than an empty hole. In its own way, it spoke to how I felt by the end of the week. All that’s left of my parents is scattered to the winds and there’s a hole in a marble wall that matches the hole in my heart.

My parents will never hear about our engagement, or seminary, or Ashley becoming an MD, or me becoming a Youth Pastor, or grandchildren or kindergarten or… and that’s when I broke down. I don’t even know where we were. I think we were on the road, returning after the funeral, but I’m not sure about that. I hope I didn’t make a scene, but if I did there would be pictures and that would be… nice? When I regained my faculties I was in the backseat of the Reverend’s big vehicle, my head in Ash’s lap, sobbing.

I have class on Monday? No, I feel a trip to Student Health coming.


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