Page 15 of All Your Firsts Without Me

David’s service is being held in a local high school gymnasium. He was loved by many. He was a hero, after all. A few weeks into our friendship, we realized he had even been my hero. He was one of the officers who was first to arrive on the scene of the car accident I’d been in. I don’t remember much of that day, only the voice of a man telling me to be strong, to hold on. It was David’s voice. When I described my accident, he paled and told me he had been called to the scene. He said Giles flagged traffic while he sat with me and tried to keep me calm until the paramedics arrived. It’s one thing April and I have in common. David was a champion for the both of us.

Anyway, we aren’t unique in that. This gymnasium is filled with people David helped in one way or another.

I’m sitting with Giles and his wife. He pats me on the back when it’s time for the family to walk in. David’s casket comes first, draped in the American flag. Giles’s wife gently reaches across her husband to tuck a tissue into my tightly clenched fist. I mouth a thank you to her. But I’m not going to cry. Nope, not me. I’ll cram that shit so far down it will never be found.

David’s son, Kaden, has his arm around April, guiding her to the front. Several other family members trail behind them. Her gaze is haunted, her skin pale as she flits between the isles of hard metal chairs. Kaden helps her to sit in the first seat, then takes the one beside her. Her eyes slowly drift from the floor until they find the casket. She flinches, surprised to find it there, so close to her.

The service begins, and I can’t keep my eyes off her. She sits quietly as others rise to speak about her husband. After everyone has spoken, the minister walks over and helps her stand. On shaky feet, she makes her way to the podium. He shifts the microphone to her height. She offers him a small smile for doing so.

She stares at the papers in front of her. The gym is silent except for a few coughs and an occasional whimper of a small child. The silence goes on for so long my heart cries for her. I want to rush to the front and rescue her from whatever she is about to say. Couldn’t someone else read it for her, on her behalf? Why, oh why, isn’t someone saving her?

Just as I’m about to jump out of my seat, her head rises and her eyes roam over the crowd that came to say goodbye to the man she loved. She finally speaks, and oh my god, I can’t tell you how my heart sings at the sound of her voice. So long I’ve wondered what she would sound like.

“My husband asked me to come up here today and sing for all of you… and for him.” Her eyes lovingly roam over David’s casket. “He asked me to sing my favorite song.”

My heart stops. It literally just stops.

“He used to joke it was his favorite too. I knew that was a lie, but one day he told me it was true. It was his favorite because it would always remind him of me. I listened to this song over and over again as I tried to fight my way out of a dark place. The lyrics spoke to me as if the writer had been locked in that basement with me. Anyhow, David said it had grown on him and he asked that I share it with you today, and I will, but first I’m going to sing Amazing Grace. It was the song that led him to me in the very beginning. Hopefully, it will help his soul find its way back.”

April nods to the pianist and soon the musical notes to Amazing Grace begin to float over our heads. My heart is frozen in my chest, begging me to kick start it. When her mouth opens, it does the trick. My heart jumps for joy.

I close my eyes, listening to every nervous inflection, every pitch, every note. My fingers tap over my knee in tune with her. When the song is over, I open my eyes to find everyone in tears. Everyone but her. She is staring at the ceiling. The only sound in the gym now is crying and the sound of the pianist shuffling her papers. When the music starts again, I begin to tremble. When she finishes the final verse to her favorite song, the resounding quietness that follows is too much for me. I can’t take it any longer. Leaping to my feet, I exit the gym as swiftly and quietly as I can.

CHAPTER EIGHT

April

As soon as I finished singing, I felt as the though the walls were closing in on me. The room grew dark, and I fell to my knees, the only sound I heard was a pair of men’s dress shoes tapping across the hardwood floor. When the door opened to the outside world, I gasped at the bright light flooding in. It was David. It was him. I know it was. He was rushing to open the doors so that I could breathe, so that I could see.

Kaden hurried to my side and helped me back to my seat. I talked to him right after the service and he told me the room had not grown dark. “I think you were having a panic attack,” he said.

Maybe. It was all so strange and now I can’t shake the feeling. It’s as if there is this unseen force pulling at me, begging me not to fight it.

The streets were lined with people as we made our way from the school to David’s final resting place which is not far from our home. So many people wanted to catch a glimpse and pay their respects to a great man. A hero.

Now here I sit, praying for a miracle I know will not come. God cannot give me back my husband. The graveside service has ended, and people keep coming to me, telling me how sorry they are, offering condolences. Teresa, Jeff, and Kaden are all up, mingling and talking with people. All I can do is stare at the casket, frozen in my chair. Most of the mourners have given up on me and are focused on speaking with the rest of my family.

I’m trying to figure out how I can convince them to let me stay here tonight. Walking away is inconceivable.

I blink my eyes. You are going to think I’m hallucinating and maybe I am, but a butterfly has landed on David’s casket. It flits to my left and as I turn my head following it, a man kneels down beside me. The big yellow butterfly dances over his head for a moment before flying away. I stare after it for several minutes until it completely disappears.

I jump when I realize the man is still kneeling quietly beside me. Slowly, I turn my eyes to his. He offers me a sad smile. “Hello, April. My name is Westin. I was friends with your husband. He was an amazing man, but you already know that.” He chuckles nervously before continuing. “Anyway, he told me you had a beautiful voice, he didn’t lie.”

Eyes are the windows to the soul. When I met David, I knew instantly he was a good person because I could see the sunshine in his eyes. They were golden brown, and I felt warmed instantly by them. This man’s eyes are a unique shade of green. An inner light shines through them. It’s like looking at the sun through a piece of sea glass. His cheeks turn a light shade of pink at my scrutiny. I clear my throat, trying to speak. I don’t know what compels me, I haven’t spoken to anyone else today. “Thank you. I haven’t sung in many years, but he asked, and he is a hard man to say no to… or he was…” I let my words trail off as my eyes roam back to my husband.

“Yes, he was a very hard man to say no to,” he agrees. When I don’t say anything else, he places his hand over mine and gives it a gentle squeeze. “I will leave you to your thoughts.” He stands and turns to walk away. My eyes trail after him. Something about him is familiar, I can’t place him though. When he gets to his car, he pauses and looks over his shoulder at me. He smiles when he sees I’m watching him. I offer him a small smile of my own before facing forward once again.

Everyone leaves but Kaden and me. We sit side by side till the day grows dark.

“We should go. They’ve probably wanted to kick us out for the last several hours. They need to finish up here,” he says, turning to face me.

“How can I leave?” I whisper.

“You take my hand and together we will walk to the car.” He takes my hand in his, stands and pulls me to my feet. He walks me over to the casket, placing his hand over it. I lean down and kiss the cool, smooth surface, choking down the lump in my throat.

Then we turn and walk away.

It is the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.

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