Crazier

Hold Onto Me (26)

"I know I've got my problems and it starts with me

She saw something inside that I can't see

And late at night, yeah she'll comfort me

Hold onto me, hold onto me"

- Mayday Parade, Hold Onto Me

It was something Toby had started. I hadn't even realized Jackson and Katie had chosen to keep up the tradition - I left halfway through my dad's funeral and went to the bar, where I proceeded to drown myself with liquid amnesia until I got to the point where I couldn't and still can't remember what happened for three days afterwards.

Toby was standing there next to me, staring down at the grave in front of the tree. It had Blake's name carved into the thick blue glass, the sun glinting off of it and sparkling among the regular marble, the maple behind it young but sturdy, just like Blake himself.

Toby had decided, after losing his mom and brother in the car crash that had made him an orphan, that he would give something back (That was Toby for you, always trying to do what was best, when there were the people like me who would be content to drink every time someone, even a complete stranger, had a funeral). At their funerals, they had planted a tree each for Blake and Meg, then a half grown one for his dad, who had died when he was seven while overseas. Instead of tossing dirt onto the grave, they tossed it into the hole where the tree sat.

There was no point in coffins, Toby had told me once. After all, there was nothing left to bury.

They never found James' body, and his death was undetermined, and all that was left of either Blake or Meg was a charred ring that they found in the grass. It was Meg's engagement ring, and I knew for a fact that Toby kept it with him everywhere he went.

Instead of full graves, Toby had insisted on a box being buried in front of the glass headstones, Meg's pink, Blake's blue, and James' red for the country he had died fighting for.

James, to Toby's intense dislike, had been commemorated with an empty coffin draped with the Canadian flag. 
Later, he'd sent a letter and a box to one of James' friends in his group, asking him to send something back that reminded him of James. His father's friend had went around to every officer that knew James and collected things from each of them and sent the box back to Toby with a note informing him that James died saving his life, and that if he made it out of Afghanistan, he would be coming to thank the family.

Over ten years later, Toby still hadn't heard from him.

Toby had continued the tradition with Meg and Blake, filling a box with keepsakes from everyone who attended the funeral. If they didn't have something that reminded them of his family, Toby wouldn't allow them to stay. It was something he was adamant about.

I hadn't realized that Dad's headstone, positioned right next to James', was also made of glass. His, white, glinting so brightly in the sun it almost hurt to look at. He had been buried looking almost regularly, except the fact that he'd been covered in makeup and in a suit, which he detested. The makeup, supposed to make him look 'natural', only reminded everyone who saw his body that he couldn't have died naturally, not with the amount of stuff they'd caked on his face to try and cover what would have been scars if he'd lived. It'd made me so mad to see it that I'd walked out in front of everyone and slammed the door of the church behind me.

I still didn't regret it.

Toby was already murmuring to the graves that displayed where his family laid. I stared at my father's headstone until my head hurt, then looked over at Toby. He raised his eyebrows. "Well?"