Olifina: Love And Trouble

45. One Last Time

We all formed a small crowd around the newly dug grave. The coffin had been lowered into it already and the priest continued with his reading.

My shawl helped now more than ever as I couldn't control the tears streaming down my face. Rodas moved closer and held onto me as I bowed my head.  My handkerchief got soaked with my tears and I used my shawl to clean my face.

Rodas pulled me in for a hug and I struggled to keep myself from sobbing. Over Rodas's shoulder, I could see someone in the distance. He gave me a small wave before walking away. I moved away from Rodas as the priest started the final prayers. 

Grandpa, Grandma, Uncle Casey, and Aunt Mireya stayed a bit longer before they left. Grandma was weak from crying and she needed to rest. Melisanda, Veronica and Mum stayed longer.

Aunt Jojo continued repeating words of encouragement in my ears as she hugged me. "I'm here for you okay? You can always come to stay with me in Paris if you want." She stayed a little longer before leaving with Melisanda and Veronica. They were reluctant but I assured them that I was fine. Also, they knew from my expressions that I would rather throw a tantrum than join them. So they didn't bother to convince me any further. Mum must have been tired so I pleaded with Rodas to take her home for me.

She kissed me on the forehead and made me promise her that I would be fine. I watched as she and Rodas walked away.

It was some minutes after three in the afternoon and the weather was fair. The grave had been covered and the workmen had gone. I stood there beside Dad's grave as the cool wind swept past me, blowing my shawl on my face. The place was as quiet as the graveyard it was.

I continued to stare at the tombstone and what was written on it; Here lies Mr Itaso Geronimo Alba.

I looked away. To be honest I felt numb. I just wanted to sit there and let it all soak in. It felt so unreal that he was gone.

"I don't want to say goodbye." My voice came out weak and shaky. It was more of a whisper. "I can't believe you're gone. I just can't take it."

I took in a long sniff and set my gaze on the tombstone once again. My eyes were red and puffy from crying.

"I'm sorry, Dad. I know it's my fault." I finally let out what I had been holding in ever since the burial. "Please, all I need is your forgiveness. I just hope that wherever you are, you can see how sorry I am and forgive me. I didn't mean it, honestly. I wish I had just jumped, you wouldn't have gone. I caused this to myself. I wish I had just stayed in Sinaloa or something. I'm so sorry, I wish I could just meet with you wherever you are and tell you this myself. I want to be sure you've forgiven me. How do I even continue alone? Dad! Dad! Please... I'm so so sorry. I am." I crouched down with my face to the floor, crying heavily.

"I wish I could be close to you, just once more. I wish I could... Dad! I want to follow you. I want to be with you. I can't. I just can't do this, Dad. I can't live with this pain. It's eating me up slowly. I can't stay here without you. Where do I even start?"

My mouth shook as I tried to force out the last words. "I want to join you."

I suddenly felt lonely. Lonely. My face was soaked with sweat and tears. I sniffed loudly as I sat up. Someone dropped my shoulder from behind, making me jump in fright. I turned around sharply but relaxed when I saw it was Oliver.

I looked away so he wouldn't see my tears. "What are you doing here?"

Oliver bent down beside me and helped me clean my face. He pulled me up as he stood and looked me straight in the eye.

"I'm sorry I've not been around but I'm glad I met you here. I don't know what you're planning but the only person you're joining now is me."

I was too weak to argue with him. Dragging my hand out of his, I knelt beside Dad's grave and brought out a flower seed I had been holding. Dad loved that particular flower when he was alive. I found a small stick nearby which I used to dig the soil near the stone bearing his name. I put the seed into the soil and covered it with my hands as memories of the last time we planted together played in my head. I was just five and we had been gardening in the backyard that spring afternoon.