On My Knees...

Yommey, Mr. Right and I decide to go out for a drink tonight. It’s been a crazy week and we could all use a little rest and relaxation. We pick a bar just up the street that has some specials and a dart board. We’ve only been there for a couple drinks when my phone rings. It’s my parents. My heart races. They never call me on Wednesday nights unless something is wrong. I let it lay on the table and vibrate. “Something is wrong. Someone’s dead.” Yommey laughs at me and tells me to stop being a tard and answer the phone. I do and I know instantly by the sound of my mother’s voice that I was correct. Something is terribly wrong. I don’t remember much of the conversation. It all goes a little blurry. I remember her telling me that my cousin, who was like a little brother to me was found dead. I remember falling to my knees, tears streaming down my face, sobs sailing from my throat and handing the phone to Yommey so she could talk to my mother. I remember feeling like I was going to throw up and not knowing if I would ever find the strength to stand back up again. My mother told Yommey they didn’t have many details but would call as soon as they did. She told us not to make the 3 hour drive home until morning. I think she told us to pray.

After that it was a barrage of phone calls and crying and what the hell happened? He was 25 years old. Why would he take his own life? I felt bad for Yommey and Mr. R, watching while my family fell into splinters of ourselves, trying to piece it together, trying to make sense of it all. I remember their tears as well. Sitting next to me, holding my hand, tears rolling down their faces and I took call after call and fought to keep my sanity. Fair left her date and rushed to be with us as well. I was thankful to have them by my side. I couldn’t have done it alone.

I don’t remember if Mr. R stayed that night. I think I convinced him to go home. I sobbed in my bed for hours and talked to my family. I got up, knowing I was not going to sleep a wink, and wrote poems for him until 4:30 in the morning. I could not shut off my brain. I slept for an hour or two and then was awake again talking to my brother and my sister, my uncles, my cousins. Grasping for answers and anything to make it feel better. Nothing was working. Yommey went to work and we planned to leave for home as soon as she got done. I started pulling every picture of my cousin together and making a video for him. I sat at the computer like a possessed woman trying to edit those pictures and music together. It was hard to see through my swollen eyes that continued to gush. My head was beating so hard from lack of sleep and crying that I didn’t know if I could finish this project or not before we left. As I sat at the table, on the brink of giving up, I heard the front door open. There was Mr. R. He wrapped me up in his arms and hugged me so tightly. Told me he couldn’t get through the day at work knowing I was home alone and hurting. He made me lunch, picked up the house, helped me finish the video and pack my bags. And more importantly, he was there, next to me. And I knew he always would be, for as long as I would let him.