He left the earth too soon, a young life taken from us. The last thing that he would want is for us to blame God for this tragedy. It seemed that the only thing he wanted out of life was to bring joy and light to others, may his memory forever bring glory to God, Let us pray”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I never been to a funeral before, and I knew someday that would change, but I didn’t know that that day would be this day. I knew that someday I’d have to pay my first last respects to someone. I just didn’t know that that someone, would be me. I am amongst the crowd but no one can see or hear me. I don’t know what’s going on exactly, but one thing is for sure, I am dead. I would say that I am a ghost, but I don’t believe in ghost. I can feel the warmth of the spring sun on my skin as the afternoon breeze makes its way through the crowd and hits my face. My first thought is the irony of it being a nice warm spring day on the day of my funeral, god I love irony, or loved irony I guess. My second thought is confusion on how I can feel the wind and the sun if I’m a ghost. I guess I can figure that out later. For right now I’ll walk around and observe.
My coffin is being lowered into the ground has Pastor Croft is finishing the prayer that will end the funeral service. I look up at my tombstone “Phillip S. Ball 3-31-1989 – 5-5-2009 Beloved Son and True friend” C’mon guys ‘beloved son and true friend’ what happened to “hey what are you looking at” I let out a long sigh, I never really was all that funny. It was just the way I dealt with things. I learned a lesson a while back just because you make someone smile doesn’t mean you make them better. I guess I should have spent less time on my dry wit, and more time actually being there for my friends and loved ones.
My brothers and father stand emotionless, while on the other side the grave the sobs of a mother who has lost a son serve as an ambiance for the funeral while my half brother places his hand on her shoulder. My family. The people who I lived with for eighteen years as I think about the relationships I can’t help but shake my head. So many things have been left unsaid. Dad you will never know what served as a wall for those last few years, I know what you thinks it was, but you are wrong. Mom, I know you loved me, and I know I did you proud for the most part. I look over to my father, then back to my mother on the opposite side of the crowd, Mom, Dad, I just wanted to know what love looked liked. That is all I wanted from you two, one thing, that was it. Dathen, Caleb, and Jacob, my brothers. Dathen, we never really talked, never really had any, big brother little brother moments and though I was fine with out it, in the back of my mind it bothered me. Caleb, Jacob, I always wondered if we were going to be better then Dad and our uncles when it came to our relationships in later years. Guess it’s up to you two now.
In another group stand a mixture of men that I use to look up to, and even emulate. Some of them are very close, while others are meeting for the first time this. In this mix range from youth pastors to teachers. All so different, all so the same, each wearing the same expression. Their eyes serve as vistas to floodgates. Many have come to pay there last respects to me, family, friends, class mates, Yet out of everyone these are the men that I wish to know what they’re thinking right now also unlike everyone else, I don’t have the slightest clue what these men are feeling as they look upon my grave.
After what seem like a lifetime passes mostly everyone has gone. Amongst those who still stand at the grave this bright spring, morning is the one that knew me the best. Without a doubt she was my closet friend, was, I still need to get use to that. Silent tears make their way down her face. My parents never had a daughter, but I had a sister. The hours we would spend talking, how we were there for each other, the way we would make each other smile, they way it worked, it was what a relationship between best friends should really look like. Deep down, I know she’ll be ok.
I turn once more and come face to face with the only thing that can cause me tremendous pain even in death. My first love and very close friend, Stephanie in a paralytic mourning. My jaw is aching to form words to ease her pain. I spent so much time and effort, and gave so much of myself to comfort her in life, so many times when I caught her tears. So many times where I stood has a pillar when all else was crashing down on her. As cliché as it all is, I need to be that for her, not just for her, but for me as well. She was the reason I picked up a pen for the first time. She was the reason for my first line. I can still remember writing that note all those years ago, and though we had our few moments of passion, it was the friendship that stood like a solid fortress as waves of teenage emotions and hormones crashed against it that truly served as the highpoint of our relationship. And I almost hate myself for thinking most beautiful she looks even though she’s completely devastated. I die again and again with each tear that is shed. As I stand helpless to help her, it’s now I figure out what’s going on, and where I am. It’s so obvious now, I am in my own personal hell.
I stand motionless as Steph continues to cry, her long red hair covering hear beautiful face and dreadful tears, each second is an eternity. From the corner of my eye, I see Kathy. She walks over to Steph. Kathy knows that if I were alive I wouldn’t stand for Steph to be so broken. She tells her that as she throws hers arms around her. She tells her that there were very few things in my life that I cared about more than her happiness and that though there were other girls in my life I would always say that they didn’t even compare to her. Kathy always seemed to make sure that my responsibilities in life where taken care of. It’s nice to see that some things will never die. The two most important girls, no, two most important women of my life, perhaps even the two most important people in my life standing together. I smirk as I realize they will be ok. My life was more like a comic then I realized, the support cast is filled with uncannily strong women with out who I would have been gone a long time ago.
I hear sobs behind me, someone is at my grave and I turn around to see who it is. When I look back I don’t know what to think. The girl that I gave my later teenage years to. The girl I let hurt me over and over. The girl that I spent more nights then I care to remember crying over, is crying over me. For the first time in years she it is her turn to feel the pain of losing me. I want to be cold, hard and callused. Yet, the truth remains, I feel sorry for her. Her tears are falling like a calm rain. My friends would wonder why I care so much about her. “so what shes hurt” they would think “she hurt you how many times” They always wondered that. They always wonder why I went back time after time just to get hurt again. They never got it. Amongst her sobs I can hear her say that she misses the comfort of my arms around her. She misses the way I wouldn’t stop playing with her hair when we would be laying next to each other. How desperate she is to feel my touch. “I should have been your wife” she says has the tears begin to run down more swiftly, reflecting on everything I promised to give her, If she just gave her love to me . The reason that I always went back, my friends it was some kind of mind boggling phenomena but it was always so simple. I loved Her.
The hours progress and I am now standing alone face to face with my tombstone. I think of all who attended to pay their last respects, and say there last good-byes. I think how I touched there lives and they mine. And though I was needed and wanted by these people when push comes to shove I am dissatisfied. Who was I? and did I really matter? I wonder how I could think that while standing in the same place that loved ones cried. I did ok, but I could of done more, I could have done better. My life wasn’t a waste, but it lacked something. Even as I look at my tombstone I have no idea what it was. I no longer have to try to figure it out. May I rest in peace
- spring 09
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