and he drank.
“No, Tuck, I’ve never been able to drown those demons.”
“What was he like?”
Grandpa was still focused on that empty glass, like
all his answers were sitting somewhere inside of it. He smiled out of the
corner of his mouth and suppressed a laugh. “Joe was just a big dumb kid,
you know. Always a dumb kid. Having fun, joking around, laughing and smiling.
Everyone wanted to hang around with Joe. I can still see that goofy grin
of his.” He found it in the bottom of that twisting glass. Finally,
he looked up at me. “Nothing ever got him down, you know? You ever
know one of those people? They just always find the good wherever they’re
at? Well, that was Joe all right. Except he didn’t just find the
good, he brought it with him. Wherever he went, he brought the
good. That was Joe. That was my boy.” He sniffed and dabbed
at his eyes with the sleeves of his housecoat. “Look at me. It’s
been thirty years for Christ’s sake.”
I poured two more drinks. He sniffed hard and
shook his head. “Anyway, I figure when he died, he took all the good with
him there, too. Wherever that might be.”
“Seems to me he left some good behind, too,” I said.
Grandpa stared at me hard and then downed his
drink. He set the glass down and weakly, brokenly, pushed away from the
table. There was some kind of sadness – not so much on his face, as
behind it. Regret for lost life.
“Come on,” he said. “Let’s go back to bed.
The demons are gone.”
The morning after my night of Scotch and demons with
Grandpa, I walked the half-mile to the
Willow Grove Cemetery, which rested just west of town. I stopped first at
Ethan’s grave and sat down on the ground behind his headstone. Exactly
where I had stood with my hands on his coffin until forced to let go and watch
as they lowered it into the open-mouth of the hungry earth. I would never
be that close to him again. I would never be closer than these six
feet. Never farther than closed eyes and a quiet moment.
“I love you, Ethan. Daddy loves you forever.”
Katie Cooper’s gravesite was just thirty feet or so
from Ethan’s – from mine, too, for that matter, as my name was inscribed on one
side of Ethan’s, Tammy’s on the other. I sat on the ground in front of
Katie’s headstone, put my hands to the ground, and stared at the words on the
headstone.
Beloved Daughter
Katie Cooper
1969-1980
Beloved Daughter that was it. Two words to encapsulate it all – everything she
ever was or would be. Two words for a lifetime and just the one would
have said everything, really.
Beloved.
I remembered every moment with Katie all at
once. I closed my eyes and pictured her face. Saw it, like one of
those scenes in a movie where someone is remembered to music. Seasons in the Sun played in my mind and I saw her face with my closed
eyes. She faded into shadow and when it came back to light it was the
face of Swinging Girl. She smiled her knowing smile then faded to shadow
again. When Katie’s face returned, she was tilting her head to one side
and pulling long wind-blown hair away from mouth and eyes. Imagination or
memory, I couldn’t say. I opened my eyes and read the headstone again.
Beloved Daughter
Katie Cooper
1969-1980
1980 - far away and getting
farther. How many eyes had looked upon these engravings over the years, I
wondered. The long hard stares of friends and family
wearing the letter and number grooves deeper into the stone. How
many hearts had mourned here? More than just the Coopers and me, I
hoped. We couldn’t do it all by ourselves. Between what’s to
remember and what’s to wonder about, the three of us couldn’t bear the load on
our own.
Just then a familiar car pulled into the
cemetery. A long silver Lincoln Continental that
I recognized from the church parking lot. It drove right in front of me
and then
“No, Tuck, I’ve never been able to drown those demons.”
“What was he like?”
Grandpa was still focused on that empty glass, like
all his answers were sitting somewhere inside of it. He smiled out of the
corner of his mouth and suppressed a laugh. “Joe was just a big dumb kid,
you know. Always a dumb kid. Having fun, joking around, laughing and smiling.
Everyone wanted to hang around with Joe. I can still see that goofy grin
of his.” He found it in the bottom of that twisting glass. Finally,
he looked up at me. “Nothing ever got him down, you know? You ever
know one of those people? They just always find the good wherever they’re
at? Well, that was Joe all right. Except he didn’t just find the
good, he brought it with him. Wherever he went, he brought the
good. That was Joe. That was my boy.” He sniffed and dabbed
at his eyes with the sleeves of his housecoat. “Look at me. It’s
been thirty years for Christ’s sake.”
I poured two more drinks. He sniffed hard and
shook his head. “Anyway, I figure when he died, he took all the good with
him there, too. Wherever that might be.”
“Seems to me he left some good behind, too,” I said.
Grandpa stared at me hard and then downed his
drink. He set the glass down and weakly, brokenly, pushed away from the
table. There was some kind of sadness – not so much on his face, as
behind it. Regret for lost life.
“Come on,” he said. “Let’s go back to bed.
The demons are gone.”
The morning after my night of Scotch and demons with
Grandpa, I walked the half-mile to the
Willow Grove Cemetery, which rested just west of town. I stopped first at
Ethan’s grave and sat down on the ground behind his headstone. Exactly
where I had stood with my hands on his coffin until forced to let go and watch
as they lowered it into the open-mouth of the hungry earth. I would never
be that close to him again. I would never be closer than these six
feet. Never farther than closed eyes and a quiet moment.
“I love you, Ethan. Daddy loves you forever.”
Katie Cooper’s gravesite was just thirty feet or so
from Ethan’s – from mine, too, for that matter, as my name was inscribed on one
side of Ethan’s, Tammy’s on the other. I sat on the ground in front of
Katie’s headstone, put my hands to the ground, and stared at the words on the
headstone.
Beloved Daughter
Katie Cooper
1969-1980
Beloved Daughter that was it. Two words to encapsulate it all – everything she
ever was or would be. Two words for a lifetime and just the one would
have said everything, really.
Beloved.
I remembered every moment with Katie all at
once. I closed my eyes and pictured her face. Saw it, like one of
those scenes in a movie where someone is remembered to music. Seasons in the Sun played in my mind and I saw her face with my closed
eyes. She faded into shadow and when it came back to light it was the
face of Swinging Girl. She smiled her knowing smile then faded to shadow
again. When Katie’s face returned, she was tilting her head to one side
and pulling long wind-blown hair away from mouth and eyes. Imagination or
memory, I couldn’t say. I opened my eyes and read the headstone again.
Beloved Daughter
Katie Cooper
1969-1980
1980 - far away and getting
farther. How many eyes had looked upon these engravings over the years, I
wondered. The long hard stares of friends and family
wearing the letter and number grooves deeper into the stone. How
many hearts had mourned here? More than just the Coopers and me, I
hoped. We couldn’t do it all by ourselves. Between what’s to
remember and what’s to wonder about, the three of us couldn’t bear the load on
our own.
Just then a familiar car pulled into the
cemetery. A long silver Lincoln Continental that
I recognized from the church parking lot. It drove right in front of me
and then
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