Josephine may have been a stranger to me toward the end of her life, but she was still my mother, and as distant as the good memories are, I still have some. So seeing her like this, plastic and lifeless, brings so much pain to my heart that I feel like I have to fight to catch my breath. I don’t want Katie to worry, so every bit of anguish I feel in this moment is wiped clean from my face. She had to deal with this too—and not that long ago—so I’ll be damned if I force her to go through it again. Nobody needs to shoulder this burden but me. I’ll deal with this like I do everything else. I’ll let the feelings and emotions take hold for a day, I’ll process them on my own, and then I’ll stuff them so deep that I can’t help but forget about them … for a while at least.
The funeral director finishes his speech and welcomes us to say our final goodbyes. My great-aunt goes up to the casket first. She touches my mother’s forehead and each shoulder, delivering the Lord’s Prayer before departing the room. Katie looks at me, but at first I don’t move. I know I’m supposed to go up there, but my legs just aren’t responding to what my brain is telling them to do. It’s hard enough seeing my mom’s body from this distance.
The funeral director picks up on my hesitation and moves from behind the podium. “I will leave you guys be. Please, take your time and just come get me when you’re finished,” he says in his most sympathetic tone before following Ida out of the room.
I rise to my feet but can’t step forward just yet. My chest is burning, the lump in my throat letting me know I may just lose it if I take one step closer. I turn to look at Katie. She’s standing beside me, her hand resting gently on my back. Her touch is so comforting and I don’t want to ask her to leave, but I need this moment to be private.
“Baby, can I do this by myself? I just can’t—”
She rests her hand on my cheek, immediately cutting me off. “I completely understand. I’ll be out in the lobby if you need me.” She pulls my head down to hers and kisses my lips softly. I nearly fall into her when she releases me, not wanting to stop just yet. She shoots me the sweetest smile before making her way out of the room.
My eyes move from her to my mother, and I take two baby steps forward. I don’t know what exactly my problem is, but the closer I get to her, the tighter the pain in my stomach becomes. I take in a deep breath and rub a knuckle against each temple, then I move forward slowly until I’m standing beside the coffin. My eyes burn, the tell-tale sign that my emotions are taking over.
At first it’s just a few tears, but the longer I stand here, the more they fall. Before I know it, the tears are running down my cheeks, many of them coating my mother’s hands and the old black dress she used to wear on special occasions. It’s velvet and completely swallows her frail body.
“I fucking hate that you got this reaction out of me,” I say, wiping at my face. “I fucking hate crying more tears over you.” The words slip out before I can even process them. I know she can’t hear me, but that doesn’t mean I don’t have shit to get off my chest.
“You stole a huge part of my life from me. You let your own pain and anguish negatively affect me. You are the most selfish person I’ve ever met. So why do I still fucking love you?” The tears fall even harder now and I drop to my knees, resting my forehead against the side of the casket. I’m so fucking angry, and I can’t tell whether that’s because of the person she was or the mother she wasn’t. Or maybe it’s just because I never had a chance to say goodbye—never had a chance to mend the broken pieces.
I know it was her fault; it’s not like she ever made an attempt either. But that’s who she was. It doesn’t mean that’s who I had to be. It’s too late now though, and that fact is all too clear as I bawl like a baby before my mother’s withered body.
When I finally compose myself, I rise to my feet and brush the tears from my face. Taking in a long, shaky breath, I reach into my shirt and grab my dog tags, pulling them over my head. I remove one of the tags and drape the other one with the chain back around my neck.
I place the tag between her cold hands, and the instant I touch her, the tears creep back in. Quickly, I pull my hands back and look at her closed eyes. All I need to do now is say goodbye.
“You hurt me more than anyone ever could. You made me wish every day for a different life. But that doesn’t change reality. You’re my blood, and no matter what happened in the past, nothing can change that. I love you, Josephine.” I lean in and kiss her forehead. “Rest in peace, Mama.”
We’re cruising down Old Hickory Avenue in the rental car, and Katie has no idea where we’re going. But I do … I’m just hoping they’re still there. As I drive around the bend and see the massive property that once belonged to my grandparents, I’m immediately relieved to see the wild horses that my grandma loved so much. Katie catches sight of the stunning creatures at the same time I do, and the smile that lights her face is nearly my undoing.
The funeral was tough and it left my mind a cluttered mess, but Katie makes it all better.
“Oh my God!” She rolls down her window as quickly as she can. “They’re so beautiful!” Closing her eyes, she takes a deep breath. The air out here is unlike anywhere in the world, and it takes me back to the days I spent with my grandmother on this property, the one place I could forget the outside world for just a while. I’ve missed this.
“Smells amazing, huh?” I roll down my own window and let the scent of pine and damp earth pour into the vehicle. It’s freeing to be out here in the middle of nowhere, seeing, smelling, and hearing only those things that are natural to this Earth. It brings my feelings toward war and Iraq into focus, and immediately makes me yearn to get out of the military altogether. If I could—and if my men weren’t still there—I’d never go back to that hellhole again.
Katie rests a hand on my lap, the biggest smile on her face. “It really does. Are we going to see them?” She’s so excited that if it hadn’t been part of my plan to begin with, seeing the horses would undoubtedly be added to the agenda.
“We will in just a few minutes,” I say with a mischievous smile.
“What are you up to, soldier?” God, I love it when she calls me that—and she knows it.
“In due time, Kit Kat, in due time.” I pull the rental onto a small dirt road leading to the woods beside the property.
“Are we allowed to do this?” Katie’s innocence is ridiculously adorable.
“Well, I didn’t ask for permission, but let’s just say I was here long before any of these people were.” She looks at me curiously, trying her best to figure out my meaning, before it clicks and her mouth drops open.
“Oh my God!”
“I don’t know who lives here now, but I do know that”—I point to the large farmhouse off to our right that’s situated in the middle of the twenty-acre land my family once owned—“my grandfather built that with his own hands. Nobody’s going to tell me we can’t be here.”
“Yes, Sir,” she says with her delicate hand in a terribly performed salute. I think about the prospects of this kind of routine duri
ng sex, just as we approach a fork in the road. I’m going to have to remember that.
I take the path to the left, which travels further into the woods. The other road juts harshly to the right and through a gate toward the farmhouse. We are completely surrounded by trees, and I notice Katie’s eyes peering out the window.
“It’s so, so beautiful out here. I just can’t even believe it. How long did your grandparents live here?” I love that even though this woman knows so much about me—probably more than anybody—she still wants to know more.