Find Me

Liam I am sweating in this suit and sick of everyone giving me half smiles. The sun beats on my back as the priest drones on, reading from a book that my brother never has even touched let alone believed in. I am signaled to drop the biodegradable urn I am holding, the one that contains my brother’s ashes and soon will be a tree. My parents are standing next to me, my mother fake crying, I know this because she keeps dabbing away tears, but her tissue is dry and my dad stands there, unwelcoming as always. I take a deep breath, step up to the hole in the ground and pause. I try to think about John but moms fake sobs are distracting. I hear the crunch of the dry grass behind me and grandma touches my shoulder, “Liam, sweetie, death leaves a heartache no one can heal, but love leaves a memory no one can steal.” She nudges my arm and I place the urn into the ground. Taking her hand I go and stand back next to my parents. My brother was five years older than me, and died at the age of 19. How unfair is that. There are old, rude, and nasty people all over the world, and my brother is the one who dies. I think about it as the small group heads toward the cars at the end of the ceremony. Ten bucks says that dad will go straight to his office when we get home and mom will sit in front of the computer scrolling until her headaches start and she takes pills to fall asleep… who is going to take care of me? John was always there for me, making sure I ate, did my homework, he is my best friend. He was my best friend. Now he is gone.