Heaven's On Fire |Dimebag Darrell

Something To Look Forward To

March 22nd, 2005

  Days turned into weeks as weeks turned into months. For the first time in 14 years both Christmas and New Years were spent without Darrell. I was officially a shell of myself. Vinnie took it upon himself to move in the further along I became, making sure that I had help when I needed it. The two of us both spent Christmas just aimlessly opening the gifts that were already wrapped, knowing that it wasn't going to be the same anymore. Sitting and staring at the unopened gift that were Darrell's. I officially hated December. Like Vinnie said, we are now officially the loneliest people. Jerry, him and me.

  Today marked 19 weeks and were set to finally find out what baby Abbott was. I have been showing since I hit 12 weeks and feeling the baby move. Naturally I wanted to tell Darrell, but I had yet to still see him. I was told that the new head marker was finally installed and looked amazing. I just didn't have the courage to visit. I wasn't ready to reach that final stage of my grief just yet.

  "Hey able, you almost ready? We need to head out soon," Vinnie called up the stairs. "Yeah, give me a few minutes," replying back just as I entered mine and Darrell's room. Most nights I was still crashing with Vinnie just because it was too hard to lay in our bed where the sheets smelled like him. From the corner of my eye, I could see both Darrell's suitcase and bag right where I had left them. I had avoided them for months now.

  Maybe it was time to start making the first move towards the healing process, allow myself to accept that he was never coming back. I knew that weeks after that night I had moments where it felt he was going to walk through the front door at any time, and this was all a bad dream. My thoughts were consumed and so livid, I thought I was slowing losing my mind. Releasing a huff, I knew that I needed to finally start peeling the band-aid.

  Grabbing his suitcase first, I began to unpack and just like how I predicted, it held his clothes and a few vinyls that I am sure he picked up along the way. Picking up one of the shirts, I brought it up to my nose and took in his familiar smell. Instantly that tugging pain began to pull at my heart while flashes of him littered my mind. Crazy how even smell can house so many memories.

  Next was his personal hygiene bag that reeked of his body wash. God, I miss smelling that in the morning. What many people may not know about Darrell was that he was a very clean person, brushing his teeth, taking care of his curls, even keeping his nails cleaned. The man may had lived a crazy life, but he always made sure he was clean when doing it. Moving more things, I spotted two pairs of chucks laying underneath a couple magazines he used for reading material. Both him and Vinnie loved their magazines.

  Placing the suitcase off to the side. It was time to go through his bag. Notebooks filled of music material, some with traces of his newer design for his razorbacks sat inside. Before Darrell died, he was in the early stages of starting his own company. Darrell wanted to design not just guitars, but clothes too. Allowing people to gain access to what the guitarist enjoyed wearing, and still be able to access the very equipment that he liked to use. From guitar straps and whammy pedals to shirts and hats that he designed himself.

  While pulling out more papers, two photos fell. They were the very photos that I remembered tucking back inside before he had left. The flashback had caused my heart to sink. This whole thing sucks. Wiping a lone tear, I went back to pulling out more of his things when a solid box fell onto the bed. Confused, I frowned at the random object while observing it. The box fit in the palm of my hand and there was a little tag attached to it. It was Darrell's handwriting.

    Told you that I promised. Merry Christmas baby.

                                                         Love Darrell