Phoenix Hearts

Anger

" Fools give full vent to their rage, but the wise bring calm in the end."

-Proverbs 29:11

Parker

2 hours, 8 minutes, and 17 seconds.

I had been counting the seconds for when this funeral would end.

128 minutes of watching a 10 year old boy I barely knew get buried. And to think only two days ago I was making my way up Willis Tower-- with the stupid phase of teenage heartbreak as my only concern.

Great way to start the break.

It was surreal at first--being back home in Michigan. I missed the Lakes and the people and the sunsets, but one thing I didn't miss was the 5 inches of snow and 23 degree weather that did little but hinder the process of throwing dirt onto the casket.

I stood beside my parents in my finest suit and winter coat, directly across Duncan's family. As the Priest spoke his prayers, I could only focus on the family.

The parents Mr. and Mrs. O'Malley stood together, holding tightly to each other as the mother cried. I could tell the father was trying to be brave, but his eyes gave away every emotion he was feeling: dread, fear, fatigue. Then, there was the rest of the family, huddled in a sea of black. Over a dozen faces I couldn't seem to recognize-- not even Caitlin.

I wasn't actually sure what I was looking for when I tried to find her. I heard she had gotten hurt in the car accident, but I didn't know to what degree. She could be in a wheelchair in the back, or blended in the crowded with bruises over her body. Maybe she didn't wake up at all and was sitting in a coma at the hospital. But that couldn't have been it. Then, meshed in the crowd, I saw a head of curly brown hair-- no, two heads.

I spotted 2 girls that looked strikingly similar. One girl in a heavy black coat with bandages over her face and another girl in a plain dress with a green cast on her right arm.

The girl in the cast stood with tears rolling silently across her face and her head lowered. The other held her in a firm embrace, whispering quiet words in her ear.

Caitlin. I watched as she kneeled onto the snowy floor as her brother's casket was lowered into the ground. Her dress caught speckles of white snow that contrasted dramatically among the black-clad visitors. It was like a movie, watching strangers perform such melancholy actions. It almost wasn't real.

The rest of the funeral, I kept my eyes low, not once meeting Caitlin's eyes.

Now I was at the wake. I felt a bizarre comfort stepping into the Victorian-styled home that I hadn't seen in 10 years.

3:36 PM and I stood quietly beside my parents as they reminisced with the old neighborhood friends. I occasionally said hello and every now and then took a pinch to the face as they awed, "look at how you've grown".

36 minutes in the reception and I still hadn't spoken to Caitlin.

"You doin' ok?"

I turned to see a small woman with red hair, sad eyes, and dark circles that framed her face and contrasted with her warm smile. She stood a whole head below me, a sight I was not used to seeing from the woman I used to call 'Mama Jane'. "Mrs. O'Malley."

"Oh, it's so good to see such a sweet face after so long, Parker."

She pulled me into a hug and held my shoulders. "Oh, look at how big you are now. It's like just yesterday you were only up to my knee." She laughed softly and I felt a surge of sympathy for her. "I wouldn't even have recognized you if it hadn't been for those eyes of yours. Just like your mother's. She talks about you a lot you know- such a blessing." She kept her gaze focused on mine, her smile now transparent. Her entire stature transparent. As if that smile she kept trained on her face was all that was keeping her together-- like a rubber band pulled so tight from a stressor, ready it snap at any second.