A 4th of July so many years ago....
2006-07-03

He was the fourth of six kids and sort of the odd man out. The first four came right in a row and he came 6 years later. Then the sixth a little sister came along and most of the time he seemed lost in the shuffle. He talked a lttle funny, didn't look like the rest of us and was always too sensitive. HE was one of us, but in a way, not.
He got made fun of alot. He wasn't that good in school and was absolutely awful at sports. He'd get picked last at EVERYTHING, but never seemed to mind. Even within the family he'd get picked on some and even at a young age he was always afraid he was going to die. It was weird, little kids are not supposed to think like that, and yet he did.
My folks, trying to find something he might be good at they signed him up for art lessons. He liked it, but we never expected much. It would be like everything else, he'd do it because it was expected and when he failed he'd move on to something else. Except... Except he didn't fail. He actually became quite good. When I was younger, I took up painting for a bit, but I was mechanical, I just never had the feel. He did... In a short time we were all amazed at what he was doing. His paintings began to fill the house. He had finally found his niche.
It was right before the 4th of July and life was never better for me. I was living on my own, had a new car, money, a new girlfriend, a motorcycle. Life was coming together. The family was going on vacation. I didn't have to go. I was babysitting the house which was right on the lake. Major party plans were in place after they left.
The camper was packed and they were to head out the next morning. It was just about time for dinner when we heard the sirens and went to check out the comotion down the street.
It was an eighth grade birthday party. It was his class and of course he was invited. Dispite his differences he had quite a few friends. They all played and ate and hung out in the water and he was actually enjoying the water for a change. He usually hated it, but I guess things just seemed right this day. All his cares and fears were gone if just for this day. He was floating in a tube, someone threw him a frisbee. He slipped and never came up.
By the time we got there the place was in a panic. People were seaching everywhere. One kid started a rumor that he had snuck out of the water on the other shore. It wasn't likely but people went to look. The fire department divers showed up, but in the brown murky water they looked my by feel than by sight.
We were all there and everyone was a mess. My mom and dad were on the verge of a breakdown so I was glad when a priest showed up, even if he wasn't one of ours. It was well over an hour later when one of the divers yelled and raised his hand. We knew the wait was over. I ran to the priest and pleaded with him to take the family home. They didn't need to see this, shouldn't have to see this. He hustled them all in his car and they headed home. I stayed, I was his oldest brother, his big brother. I had to stay. I didn't have a choice, I really didn't have a choice.
They the body out and it was him. He looks so small and pale. I started to cry. The paprmedics said something about there being a chance, but I knew it was a lie. The water wasn't cold enough, not in early July. The time was too long... They worked on him anyway, probably more for me than for him, I guess....
Somehow the papers got quotes from me. I don't remember talking to anyone. I'm not sure how I even got home. It was only a couple of blocks but to this day I just can't remember. I did remember the faces though. The red eyes and the almost pleading looks from my family that it was somebody else they found, anybody... But it wasn't.
I stayed until we were all cried out and then I went home. They wanted me to stay, the house was too full of relitives, friends. I needed air, lots and lots of air and space. I drank most of a bottle of tequilla that night to get to sleep. My rifle was on the floor in the morning. I'm not sure what I was thinking when I was drunk, but it scared me so much that when I got up I threw it in the river.
Mom and dad were such a mess that I had to make the arrangements, be the strong one who held the family together, and so I did. It seemed like I had the whole world on my shoulders that weekend, but you do what you have to do.
It was a holiday weekend and they could'd have the funeral until Monday. They waked him for three days and the line was outside the building the entire time. Family, friends, kidds for school. The lines never ended. I needed some time away and called the girl. She never called back. I fianlly went to the house. I knew she was home, but her mom lied for her and said she was out. Then she then apologized. Her daughter was young, couldn't handle the situation, she didn't know death. She was very sorry... Me too. I wasn't expecting anything except not being alone for a bit. I guess it was too much to ask.
It was sunny and warm the day they burried you in one of the family plots. I don't remember the service. I don't rmember the ride. I do remember standing on that damn hill looking at the hole and thinking it wasn't fair. My father aged ten years that weekend. I still to this day believe the stress from that weekend is what fed the cancer that took him a year later. I believed he'd beat it even thought the doctors said there was no hope. I believed it right up till the point where they sent him home full of morphine and I had to carry him to the bathroom every night. The I'd go downstairs and cry and pray not for him to be cured, but for him to go quickly, to not suffer any more. I think that day on the hill took a lot of fight out of him and that if things had been different...
The day after both funerals I headed for the shore. I guess I've always felt closer to what ever there is as a higher being there. The ocean is so vast and we are so small. It puts things in perspective. I made what ever peace with the world that I could and worked on covering up thr scars. That's what we do right? Cover the scars and try to move on with life?
I'm taking people to see the fireworks tonight. There'll be lots of laughing and oohing and ahhing... I'll put on a happy face. It's what I do, but I'll be remembering too... And life goes on.

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