Friday, December 1, 2017, 4:30 pm - I walk into my brother’s room and say, “Mom wants us in the living room.” He stands up from his chair and we both walk into the living room together. He sits on the couch and I sit on the floor. We wait; we don’t speak. The silence in the room starts to become annoying. My stomach starts to get that feeling when you think you are in trouble but you know you haven’t done anything wrong but it sure does feel like you are in trouble. Finally, after what felt like five hours my dad strides in from the garage and sits on the opposite side of the couch, he stares down at the floor with a frown on his face, trailing after him is my mom. Her face is blotchy and her eyes are glassy like she had been crying. I thought, oh my gosh what have I done?

She sits on the floor where she can see all of us, she takes a shaky breath and looks down at her fingers interlocked with each other and says, “I just got off the phone with my sister - I mean your Aunt Anne and she found out today the Uncle Eli  died last night in a car accident. He took a corner to fast and flew out of his car and died immediately. I am so sorry,” She starts to cry.

I stood up, not thinking and ran into our kitchen and place my hands on the counter. My mind racing, on my gosh he’s dead. He’s dead. He’s DEAD. No no no he can’t be, he’s not dead. I feel my mom’s hands grabbing my shoulders, I turn around and start to cry. They were only married for five years, five small years that will soon be forgotten. I was numb and knew I was never going to be okay ever again. The shock of his death began to swallow me whole, the realization of not telling him goodbye grabbed me by my throat and started to choke me.  

Saturday, December 2, 2017, 2:00 am- I lay awake in my bed still stunned from the news that my mom had basically thrown at me, He’s dead.  I told myself repeatedly that he wasn’t gone, he would call and tell me he was alive. I would never hear his voice, never hear his laugh, never see him smile again. I close my eyes trying to hold back my emotions but yet the tears still seem to slip from my eyes.

Saturday, December 2, 2017, 12:00 pm- I hear my mom’s voice echoing through the house and bouncing off the walls as she was on the phone. Phone call after phone call the same horrifying news over and over again. I close my eyes and block her voice out of my head, I don’t want to hear that he’s dead, I don't want to hear that we are leaving for the funeral, I don’t want to go, but another part of me did, desiring to see him one last time even if he was in a casket, needing to say goodbye.

Saturday, December 2, 2017, 6:30 pm- I look across at Andrew staring at him. How in the world has he not shed a tear over Eli ’s death? How can everyone in this house carry on with their lives as nothing has happened? I feel like someone has paused my life and everyone else is still moving forward like my mind can’t get past the idea that he is gone.

My mom cleared her throat and said, “ I talked with Anne today and his funeral and burial will be on Friday just for family.”

Thursday, December 7, 2017, 7:00 am -  I finished putting the last of my things in my suitcase and slowed closed the suitcase still not fully comprehending what I was doing. I turn off my bedroom light and drag my suitcase and myself out to the garage. My dad grabs my suitcase and puts it in the car with the two others.

“Where’s mom?” I ask

“Remember she was driving your grandparents to Colorado,” he replies as he closes the trunk.

“Oh yeah, I forgot,” I say opening the car door and throwing my backpack in beside me.

Thursday, December 7, 2017, 9:30 am - We take off again from another pit stop somewhere in the middle of Kansas. I put my headphones and start to play my music when all of a sudden I flashback into a special memory I had with Eli .  Everyone was upstairs checking out Andrew’s and I’s new Christmas presents a drum set and a piano. I was so excited that Aunt Anne and Uncle Eli came in for Christmas this year and with Uncle Eli  being a musician himself he could help me. I sat on the couch watching him help Andrew tune his drums and teach him some techniques. I started to get impatient because I knew nothing about the piano and I wanted to learn. I walk over to my keyboard and turn it on. I stare at the keys not knowing what to do. I look over my shoulder and see everyone else is gawking at Andrew  ’s drum set wanting to play. I see him walk towards I look up and see him smiling, his shiny white teeth against his dark skin.

He sits down beside me on the piano bench and asks, “What do you know about piano?”

I look down at my hands in my lap and whisper, “Nothing. Nothing at all.”

He nods and says, “What you need to know is that piano is whatever you make it be.”

Thursday, December 7, 2017, 4:00 pm -  I lift  my eyes from my phone and raise my head from the windowsill and state, “Where are we?”

“Almost in Colorado, Andrew says as he looks over his shoulder at me.

I peer out the window and see the Colorado state sign fly by. Last time I was in Colorado was for my 12th birthday, I remember like it was yesterday all the funny jokes we made that no one else will understand. I think that is the hardest part of his death, realizing all the memories I have of us together are now only mine to share. Then the sinking feeling that there will be no more to make.

Thursday, December 7, 2017, 7:00 pm -  We pull into the long driveway and drive up to the house, they had just moved into 2 years ago. Dad had told us that Mom, Anne, and our grandparents were out running some errands but they would be back soon. Some of Anne’s cousins had come in for the funeral and they were already inside the house. We walk to the back of their house and pull back the screen door, as we turn the corner we are greeted by  Taylor and Becky. We hug and walk into their living room, and they sit down and begin to talk about our trip. I drown out their conversation and look around the room, everywhere I look I see his picture. I look to my left a picture of Anne and him, to my right is a collage from their wedding and on the fireplace a picture of them and their dogs. All of these stupid pictures took over my thoughts, I don’t want to see pictures of him I want to see him in person I thought.

An hour later the back door opens and in came my mom, my grandparents and Aunt Anne walks in the house. A jumble of hellos enters the room as we all stand up from our seats.  

Taylor and Becky stand and walks over to Anne and both say, “Hi, Anne we are so sorry for your lost.”

“Thank you,” whispers Anne, “I’m so glad you could come.” She hugs them both and secret words are traded between them.

Really? They’re sorry? They never met him in their lives? What about me? I lost not just an uncle but a best friend.

As  Taylor and Becky stride over to say hello to my grandparents, I start to walk towards her but Andrew reaches her first and gives her a hug. My mom pulls me over and hugs me, I hug her back saying we had a good trip. I saunter over to Anne, I don’t say anything the tears in both of our eyes says enough. We both embrace each other and don’t speak. Our hearts are broken and no matter how many im sorrys we hear it will never take away our pain. After our short embrace Anne is swept away and in come some women I had never met before, they carried plates of fried chicken, rolls, corn, green beans, and coconut cream cake. The house erupts in the noise of “Excuse me!” to “I got a hot plate.” “Hello my name Ramona, I am Anne’s mother.” I step back out of the kitchen as I turn around into the living room, I feel someone grab my elbow.

My mom tells me, “Come here, I want to show you something.”

I follow along behind her with Andrew trailing behind me. We walk through a hallway into a side room and step over some boxes on the floor, Anne’s artwork covering the walls. Facing all of us is a white wooden door she grabs the doorknob and opens the door. it's dark behind the door, she leans over to the left and turns on the light. It’s dark for a moment and then all of a sudden a flicker of light brightens up the room. She walks down the wooden ramp leading to his studio. I stand there overwhelmed by the view before me, I slowly go down the ramp and turn to look all around the room. To the left sits his black and white striped drum set, next is another side room with his office, a piano pushed up against the back wall and on the right is a wall of his guitars. On all of the walls are pictures of him performing. My vision became blurry, I close my eyes and think when I open eyes he’ll be here. I open my eyes greeted with the same view, the room feels dead like it will never come alive with the sound of music again. A room full of stuff but stuff that doesn’t have a purpose anymore.

Friday, December 8, 2017, 8:45 am - Today was the day. Today was the day I had to tell him goodbye. We finished getting ready in our hotel room and headed downstairs to the lobby. My other uncle and his family came in late that night and they were waiting for us downstairs. We all go out to our car greeted with the view of Pikes Peak and cold Colorado air. As we pull into the funeral home, I was hit with the realization that this would be the last I would see him. Ever. I get out of the car and we all head inside as a family that has been hit with grief, my mom meets us at the door and hands me a purple scarf.

I question, “What is this for?”

She says with a sad smile on her face, “ This was Eli ’s favorite color and Anne wants you to wear it.”

I took the scarf from her and run my fingers over the smooth material, I put the scarf around my neck and walk into the building.

Friday, December 8, 2017, 9:00 am - Fifteen minutes later our family is brought into a room with three floral couches pressed against the walls. Some of Eli’s family was already in the room, they stand up and hug each of us and the adults began to whisper quietly among themselves. I sit down on the far couch away from everyone and look through the small opening of the doorway, a screen projects an image of Eli and the date in which he was born and when he died. My eyes drift to below the screen and there I see a white and silver casket with his dark body poking out of the casket completely still. I whip my head back around and face the other people in the room, holding back the tears of the realization that he’s dead. I walk across the room to sit by my cousin and uncle where my great Aunt Sue begins to talk to Martin.

“You and he had a lot of great memories together, didn’t you?” she says to Martin.

“Yep,” he mutters looking straight down at his shoes, “yep we sure did, we always used to joke around.”

I look away from both of them and stare at the floor holding my tongue against the roof of my mouth to stop the tears from flowing. I remember the time when we all went to Silver Dollar City and Uncle Martin, Andrew, Emily, Uncle Eli , and I all rode the electro spin together. Uncle Martin told Eli that he couldn’t cuss on this ride because of the kids. Eli nodded and told Martin instead of cuss words we’ll say different types of birds, they both laughed and before we all knew it we were on the ride. Eli and I sat in the middle between Emily, Martin and Andrew; I could tell he wasn’t very excited to be on the ride but I kind of sort of forced him into riding. The large red and gold circle starts to move at a slow pace swinging back and forth on the track.

Martin says, “Eh, Robin.”

Eli  leads over to Martin, “Dove”

They went back and forth through bird names laughing at each other, as we got higher and higher on the track they began to yell louder people started to watch us.

We got to the highest part of the ride and Martin yells, “FLAMINGO!!!”

I was laughing so hard I was crying and couldn’t breathe, I look over at Eli  and see him laughing and hitting Martin on the arm. We all got off the ride still laughing with everyone around watching us, it seemed like wherever we went with Eli  everyone was watching us and we were always laughing. Like there was a glow of happiness and laughter that followed us wherever we went with him.

Friday, December 8, 2017, 9:30 am-  The funeral director walks into the room grabbing everyone’s attention.

He spoke in a soothing voice, “I am so sorry for your loss and we plan on making this a service of remembrance and mourning for Eli if I could have Eli’s immediate family enter first and then behind them the rest of his family and close friends.”

Anne stands up with the help of two of Eli’s childhood friends and they walk out of the room and into the hallway forming the line. After Anne is Eli’s dad and Eli’s three sisters and their family, trailing after them is my grandparents. My mom takes my hand and we stand behind Taylor and Becky with Andrew and my dad behind us. I look behind me and see all of the close friends of Eli and how everyone in this never-ending line has been affected in a different way by Eli’s death. The line slowly moves forward as each person stands in front of Eli’s body. Before I know it I am standing in front of his body, I look down at his face noticing a little mark on the top right of his forehead that wasn’t there before, Probably from the accident I thought. I stare at his closed eyes pleading with him to wake up. Just wake up! Open your eyes for me, I want you to be alive. I look down at his hands and began to spill out all the emotions and thoughts wishing he was alive to hear what I had to say. I’m sorry I started to grow distant from you. I’m sorry you’ll never get to see me turn 16. I’m sorry you’ll never see me drive. I’m sorry you’ll never see me get married. I closed my eyes letting each tear fall down my face, my mom began to pull me from his body I wasn’t ready I still had more to tell him. As the pastor spoke about Eli, my mind drifted to all the things that we did do together. When I came to Colorado for my 12th birthday we drove up Pikes Peak we made a little pit stop on the way to a little creek by the mountain. Eli decided to climb over the fence to get to the creek just like some other people had done. My mom and Anne e stayed back and told me to do the same, I begged and pleaded with them that I would be careful and all I wanted to do was look at the water with Eli. They finally let me go and I crawled under the fence walking a little to fast down the rocky hill to reach Eli. Once I caught up with him, my foot slipped and I was headed for the creek. Just in time, he caught me by the elbow and I was able to regain my footing. As he caught me, he told me that he will never let me slip that he will always be there to catch me but neither of us knew that at this moment in time I would be at his funeral three years later.

Friday, December 8, 2017, 10:30 am - To end the service and head to the cemetery each person took a flower from a vase and placed it into his casket. With my face red from crying, and head filled with millions of thoughts I took a white lily flower from the vase and walked up to his casket feeling everyone’s eyes on my back. I slowly place the flower in his casket trying to draw out the last moment of getting to see his body one last time. As

I place the flower by his side I whisper to him, “ I love you, goodbye.”

I walk away as fast I can to get away from the casket taking in a shaky breath, I step outside and turn around watching each person place a flower in his casket. Anne  is the last one and stands by the casket longer than any of us. She closes the casket and I try to get one last glimpse of him before they shut it tight.

Friday, December 8, 2017, 11:00 am - Our car pulls into the cemetery with everyone else from the funeral home. We step out and make our way through the uneven grass, the pastor says a few last words and his body is gently placed into the ground. Even though his body is placed in the ground and will soon be cover with dirt, it doesn’t mean that the memories I have of him are gone they are still very much alive. With every step, I take I carry him with me, with every word I speak his memory is in each. Yes, his body may be buried but the memory of his life will never perish.

Six months later- Six months. Feels like it's been six years. After six months of tears and old memories, I have come to the realize that grieving never truly stops, there will always be pain from his death and the lingering feeling of being numb forever.