Chapter 10: Mike

I was stunned at how many were in the chapel. They parted as we entered, and we were ushered to the front row. The preacher was an old friend of the family, at one time our campers were side by side. It seemed like he preached the whole sermon straight to me.

He talked about love, loss, and overcoming tragedy. He talked about God’s will, and how mortals would never understand it most of the time. Finally, he asked for a silent prayer for the souls of my family.

I had been getting more and more agitated. Every face I saw triggered a memory, every hug or pat on the back seemed to bring more pain. It finally hit me. I’d never had a chance to grieve for my family. I’d had to jump straight in, arrange the funerals, deal with the insurance, and try to save the company. Plus, I never had anyone to grieve with. Every one close to me was gone. Kim acted sympathetic, but I could sense she never really gave a rat’s butt about it.

Now, twenty months later I sat here, surrounded by families I’d known since childhood, the friends I’d made here, the friends my parents had made. Plus I now had Carrie and Sarah. It hit me like a physical blow. I was with family now, and I could let my grief go.

So I broke down and cried like a baby, for my parents who never got to enjoy their golden years, for my brother and his wife who would never know the joy of raising a family, and finally, for my niece, a poor child who never got a chance to experience life. I cried for me, for the hole it had left in my life, that had been unfilled until now. The tears washed away most of my burden, and for the first time since I lost them I felt true peace.