Golden Greaser

- 14 -

     Days passed, and Darrel and I were able to find a funeral home willing to bury my father for a lower expense. 

    I hated that I didn't have enough money to give him a proper funeral, but I took what I could get, and I was thankful for it... 

   But grief took something out of you. It pulled and clawed at the little you had left. 

    Tired. I'm so tired. 

   I used almost all of my dad's life savings to pay for it and Darry came in also. It bugged me that he insisted on spending some of his money on it, but then again there wasn't any other way we could've covered the cost. 

   The silver rim kissed my fingers as I ran them along the casket, holding back the tears I was so tired of crying. 

    It was just me and Darry, dressed in the nicest clothes we owned, sitting alone on the bench before my dad's coffin.

   He placed his strong, reassuring hand on my back, reaching over and squeezing my shoulder.

    "Hey," He whispers, his voice low and calm. "Look at me."

     I hesitate, feeling the sudden gush of tears cloud my vision. 

    Slowly, I turn and look at the man who had given so much to me, never ceasing to oblige to whatever it was I needed.

   His fingers gently wrap around my jaw, the warmth of his palm contrasting to the bite of the November air. 

   A sweet, loving smile curled his lips. And then his eyes shine with a glint like glass, a streak of heartbreak painting his beautiful green irises.

   "You're gonna get through it." He whispers, holding my gaze. "Don't you ever think for a moment that you're not, Diana."

   I wrench a smile, bitterly and doubtful.

  "Why do you keep saying that..." My voice breaks to a whisper, my throat constricting within me.

   "Because you never will believe me..." He answers softly.

    I stare, silenced by the cutting, wounding truth.

    "When my momma and dad passed, things were awful. Everything seemed to fall apart, y'know," He begins, his gaze drifting to the casket. "And every night..." 

   He swallows, the muscles in his cheek tense and release.

   "Every night I would lie awake in bed, praying that it was all some nightmare that would end at any moment, and that I could wake up and everything be alright again." He says, his tone low and guarded, hiding the sorrow behind his eyes. "It wrecks ya, man. It kills you."

  There were too many thoughts in my mind to say any more, and truly I didn't trust myself to be able to say the right things. 

  I stand to give one final goodbye to my dad before they buried him.

  "I love you, dad..." 

    Thumbing the ring he had given me after momma left, I run my hands along the casket a final time. 

    "I love you..."

   Those three words were the only thing I could muster, the reality of losing my dad finally delivering the blow of defeat.

    And as I watched them lower him into the earth, I stood cold and stiff, listening to the echoes of his final words ringing out.

   "I don't think I'm going to make it, Diana."