A Final View, Forever

By Jeanne Miller

They were told he was ready. They walked in ö the mother, the aunt, an uncle. His death took the wind away, it left them unable to get through more than a minute at a time, perhaps even less than that. They were numb from the anguish following the news. "Let this not be him, let there be an error," they collectively prayed. They could so easily forgive the mistake.

The unfathomable had manifested. Their dear son and nephew was there for final viewing. How could this be? He had an unrelenting energy, a boundless presence, forever. They used to comment, "How does he keep going? I wish I could bottle his spirit. I'd make a fortune." He had just started on his path, his talents and gifts were great. He was loved by his family. Wasn't that enough? His life brought him many hills and valleys, but he was so full of adventure that they were just part of his journey. He seemed to welcome them in his later years. The mother, the aunt and an uncle were touched by his ability to walk lightly on the earth and they admired the simple and easy way he lived. He appeared carefree, not showing the deep sadness and confusion this time in life can bring.

The mother, so full of pain only complete love brings, unable to do what mothers do best?guard, help, protect. She, pointing inward fingers of blame, the remorse and guilt spreading snake-like through her veins, entering the heart, forever. The mother, remembering him, as only she can, reaching out to test what she already could see was true. He was gone, had moved on to a place where she could not join him. The disbelief giving way to sorrow and a crushing awareness of how different life would now be for her, without him.

The aunt, wanting to help the mother, her sister, but unable because of the grief. Tears staining, wondering why she didn't notice what was now apparent. Thinking of her own children and how desperately fragile and fleeting life can be. She, not able to believe he meant to be successful and then angry because he was. The aunt, remembering the young infant, the first of a new generation, seeing him full of wonder, a life just beginning. Now seeing this life finished without being complete and her filling time with "what if's" and "should have's." She, wanting desperately to go back in time, a week would do. She believes, if she had known, she could have said a word to make this all just a possibility, a passing thought, instead of, forever.

An uncle receives a frantic call, thinking it's his own child from the chaos on the other line, rushes. He stands strong for the rest while inside the shared guilt enters softly, almost unnoticed. He remembers the nephew without a constant father so he stepped in and offered love and friendship. "Why didn't I do more? If only?," he thinks quietly. The uncle and the nephew, with parallel lives, shared the common thread of life's challenges and triumphs. The uncle worries for his children, for their great loss, and how this has changed all of their lives, forever. He offers comfort and wants to do all he can, while he ignores his torment and loss.

They gathered, the three of them, to begin the final event. As the planning and preparation commence, the three cannot imagine life without him. They are certain any joy will be fleeting and left to those outside their grief. Other family and friends would assemble, but these three would be bound by this memory, forever. They alone share this final view of a lost nephew, a lost son.