New Beginnings

Visitation

Thursday, October 26

Being back in Alabama is just weird.

We flew into an airport about an hour away from my hometown. Since Grandpa flew us on his private plane, we didn't have to fight the airport fiascos. It also meant that we couldn't rent a car, so Aunt Heather had to pick all three of us up.

Ava and my Grandpa talked a lot on the way down, and I just listened most of the ride up. I didn't know what to say. I've been thinking a lot over the last three days, and I think this loss hurts more than losing Mom, which is really sad.

Aunt Heather drove us straight to the visitation. Again, I let everyone else do most of the talking in the car.

When we arrived at our old church, I could just feel the heaviness weigh on me. This church was the church Kraus brought me to after my mom died. I found out about the grace of God at this church. Just being in the parking lot brought a lot of the memories back.

Ava grabbed my arm. "Are you okay?" she asked.

I glanced down at her. "This is going to be really hard."

We walked in the church and when I saw Sheri, Kraus's wife, she opened her arms and said, "Hey, thank you for coming." I hugged her tightly. When she pulled away, I noticed that her eyes were filled with tears. "You have no idea how much it would've meant to him to know you're here." Then she pulled Ava into a hug.

I held back tears, swallowing. Ava that and wrapped her arms around me. "He meant so much to me. Being here is the least I can do," I choked out.

Sheri put a hand on my arm. "I know. We're going to get through this together."

That was when my old boss(principal), Jeff, walked in. For those of you who read May's blog, you may remember how dynamic my relationship was with Jeff.

"Hey, man," I said as he clasped my hand, pulling me into a hug.

Then he gave Sheri a hug. "I'm so sorry for your loss."

"Thank you."

"How are you and the kids doing?"

"Honestly, I don't think it will hit us for a while. These last couple of days have been crazy."

"I know," Jeff said, putting a hand on her arm.

Somehow I fell into conversation with several people at the visitation. It was really good to catch up with everybody.

But when I finally made my way to the casket with Ava, Heather, and Grandpa, I tried to hold it together, but when Ava pulled me into a hug to comfort me, I really had to fight it.

Aunt Heather and Uncle Tom graciously let us stay with them. Grandpa got the guest bedroom because he flew us, and Ava got the couch in the living room, and I got the blow up mattress in the office.

Heather made us dinner, so I had to eat, even though I know I had no desire to eat anything. After dinner, I went straight to the office and shut the door. I literally laid down on my bed, and I just laid there, so numb, I couldn't even cry. 

That was when Ava knocked on the door, and before I could even say anything, she walked in slowly. I propped myself up a little.

"You're not okay at all," she stated. "You're never this quiet." I just looked up at her, unable to even say anything. "Can I give you a hug?" she asked quietly, opening her arms. I sat up all the way, opening my arms, too lazy to stand up. "Say something." Her voice was barely above a whisper. "It's okay to be sad. He was like your dad."

"I just miss him," I whispered back, meeting her request to speak. "He was way too young, like my mom, but he meant more to me because he was one of the first people who went out of his way to care about me when he didn't have to." Speaking those words aloud made me no longer numb, and I decided to not hold back my tears, knowing that this was an okay time to show emotion.

When she pulled away, she kissed my wet cheeks. "He reminds me of you. You went out of your way to take care of me. If something happened to you, I don't even know what I would do." 

I just pulled her into another hug, and we stayed like that for a long time. 

In all honesty, I wish the last entries of this blog didn't have to be like this. Everything was just coming back together, and this then happened.

Tomorrow's going to be really tough because I am going to be speaking at the funeral.