I held in my hands the letters as I stared at the stones. At the top of the stack was a picture of me and my brother when he was discharged from the army, I was 14, he was 20.
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The letters were ones sent from him over the two years he was gone before being discharged for a medical condition that had developed. I was 12 when Clay joined, before he left we smoked a joint together and I was so baked I asked him if this meant I was a stoney now, I meant to say stoner but that had become his new nickname for me. He had only ever wrote the nickname in the letters, so our parents wouldn't know we had smoked weed together, which is why I had forgotten where it had come from. What used to be a funny joke only between us was now a cruel reminder torturing me.
The names on the head stones were that of my father and brother. It was my brother's 24th birthday and the two most important men in my life had went out for a doctors appointment for Daddy and to buy kerosene, groceries, and other necessities if we were trapped on the mountain. Unfortunately the ice storm had come sooner than expected and Daddy's four wheel drive truck slid in a sharp curve. The truck flipped end over end down a thirty foot drop.
I had made Daddy a promise that when he was gone I'd not sit at his grave to remember him but go enjoy the things we had done together but when I did come to his grave pour moonshine on it and have a drink with him. We had talked about it some when I was younger because dad was a firefighter and a machinist, so the possibility of him not coming home was higher than most parents. He made me truly promise this to him two months before his death because he had fallen ill with a hernia keeping him from breathing well and had to be put on oxygen.
I did just what I promised. From my pocket I got a small jar of moonshine my mamaw had made and opened it. I first took a long hard drink than poured a shot over the ground at the base of both men's burial plots.
I opened the first handwritten letter my brother had wrote me: " April 16, 2016 Dear Stoney, Things ain't to bad here in basic but I never believed I'd miss old Keokee, Virginia.
I leave for Afghanistan in two weeks and if I'm being honest I'm a little scared, but I don't wanna worry you to much with it. You're young and should be enjoying life, don't let your mind get the best of you. At your age you should be worried about friends and dating, not bills. But remember if any boy breaks your heart I'll be home soon enough to teach em a lesson. Make time to have fun but don't get to high with Finnster.
Don't forget to take care of my hound and the chickens. I miss you, Momma, and Daddy like hell. Always remember that no matter how far from you I am, I'll always be there for my baby sister.
Love, Bubby"
I sobbed as I read the handwritten words of my brother in the moon light. Then I looked at the picture of us. Next I found a picture of my father and I fishing in the stack of the pieces of my broken heart.
