All night I was plagued with the question: Would you have made the choice to end your pain if you knew what other pains, the ripple effect, your death would have on the rest of us? Had you been in your right mind, I don't think so. But that's second guessing, and you needed to find your peace.
The morning after was rough, we all walked around in a daze, wondering what to do, what needed to be done, and how to go about it. With your body at the morgue and the next day the 4th of July, we needed to get arrangements made. So I called the funeral home and made the appointment for 1pm. In the meantime, we decided to go through your room.
We couldn't find a suicide note; we found your phone but it doesn't work. Of course, all the little things -- the junk you never could get rid of was boxed up. We went through your clothes. Luckily Alonzo could fit into some of those jeans that had gotten too big for you, so they went to a good cause. Your motorcycle jacket went to Brandon, since he rides to work every day. Some of your work shirts were still looking good enough, Alonzo can wear those to work! No one fit into your shoes. They're all still piled in the garage.
When it came time to leave, we tried grabbing a little snack -- no one feels like eating just yet, but we know that we need to. We arrived at the mortuary and of course there are several decisions to be made. We looked at the urns, and while your sister needed some time to think about it, I didn't. I saw one that was all black, nothing fancy on it, and knew in an instant it was perfect for you. We decided on an electric guitar, block lettering for you name and date. Simple. Timeless. Classic.
There wasn't anything left for us to do but head for home, stare at the same walls, let the TV keep our brain occupied for a bit more. No one was interested in finding a fireworks display to watch. We spent part of the afternoon looking through things in the garage. I sat down at the computer to ... well, I don't remember what I was going to do, probably look up some photos. I opened my drawer and underneath my portable hard drive, I found your note. My heart nearly needed a jump start. I didn't want to read it. And yet I did. I wanted to know everything you were thinking, learn whatever you needed to tell us.
I carried it out to Alonzo and Tanya, they read it too. It was so sad to hear your final words. It has always made me wonder why you couldn't talk about Michelle and family. You were living like a family, but I'm certain it wasn't any kind of family life you'd ever had in the past. And maybe you felt some kind of shame in the way things were, so much so that you wouldn't talk about it. And you needed to.
That night, I slept maybe 3-4 hours, because my body was exhausted. There weren't any kind of arrangements that we could have made because it was a holiday, so we pretty much coasted through the rest of the day and evening. I cooked the lasagna you and I were going to have, so that helped us feel a little bit more normal -- fixing dinner and eating something helped everyone feel a little better.
Friday was going to be another difficult day. Here's the urn we selected for you:
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