Hold On Ringo

Chapter 3

Chapter 3
12 February 1965

Dear diary,
Today is the day that Harry will be buried. I don’t think I can live without him.. he’s important to me. He understood me.. he learned me how important music is..

“It’s time to leave.” Mum says while she lays a hand on my shoulder.

I close my diary fast, hoping she didn’t read and stand up. Mum wraps and arm around me while we walk to the door. I look down my feet, all I feel is sadness and lifeless.

Mum opens the door and I walk outside towards the car and get in. I play a bit with my hands to get some bad thoughts away. Mum sits in the car and drives to the cemetery.

It feels like this is taking ages. It’s silent in the car, even the radio isn’t on. Slowly I move my nails of my right hand to my left wrist. Knowing mum is busy with driving so she won’t notice this anyway. I put my thumbnail of my right hand in my left wrist. And move it from left to right and back. I take the nail from my wrist when I see my skin went red of this action.

After 30 minutes we are at the cemetery. I get out the car. In seconds the hearse arrives and I start breaking. Four man take the coffin out the car and they bring it towards the grave. Mum and I follow the man. I’m holding mum’s hand while crying.

The funeral attendant stands at the grave.

I look at the grave. And the funeral attendant starts to speak. “Today we’re all here to bury an important man to the society. Called Harry Graves. –” the man speaks.

I don’t listen to the story he’s telling. I look at the coffin of Harry. He was like a father to me even while he was not my real one. We never had much money but he always loved the music and made sure I could make music. He understood how important it was… even more then mum does.

The funeral attendant is finishing his speech “ – does the family want to say something?” he asks. I up my hand. And the man lets me go to the front. I walk over and stand at the grave.

“Harry, you were important to me.” My eyes are running of tears. “You were the best father I ever had. You learned me about music and you always listened to me.. I can’t believe it’s all gone now… I love you.” I walk back to mum and cry in her shoulder. She wraps her arms around me and comfort me.

The 4 man place the coffin in the grave and bury it.

I look away from my mother’s shoulder to the burying of Harry. I put my head back in my mother’s shoulder, crying my heart out. Mum holds me close and cradles me while she’s crying too.

After a while we’re leaving and walk back to the car. I’m feeling completely empty. There’s not much mean to me anymore in the life. Past days have been terrible. The band doesn’t even know something about what I feel already past 6 days. I couldn’t tell them… They were too busy with each other. No-one looked at me.

I sit in the car, my thoughts are running in my mind. While mum starts the car and drives home.

I really don’t understand why the boys are doing like this to me. I don’t understand what I’ve done wrong that they’re so much ignoring me. I’ve always helped them and respected, they’re my friends, my closest friends who always understand me in the biggest problems.. Even in the past that I’ve been in hospitals so much. They were there for me and I was there for them.. Mum told me stories when I was in coma that George everyday visited me and looked after me. George was there when I woke up. He really cared about me.

In 30 minutes we’re home. I step out the car and walk slowly and depressed to the door of the house.

“Richard.” Mum says

I look up. “Yes?”

“Please don’t close up yourself in your bedroom.. It hurts me to see you doing that.” She says with love.

I nod easily and open the door with my key and walk in. I take my diary and walk upstairs to my bedroom and start writing there about the day.

I’m now home since an hour of 4. Those 4 hours has been hard to me. All what happened were the silence in the car, my thoughts.. and honesty I don’t believe I’ve got a very nice life… life doesn’t like me. And know you why. Because I’ve been so much in hospitals in my early years, we haven’t much money at all, and I like the fans but sometimes when they chase they can be so annoying. What about the boys? They’re just ignoring me. Every time of the past 6 days. They have ignored me. I’ve no meaning at all… Do I?

I sigh, and start breathing deeply in and out to calm myself down. I don’t want stupid things to happen. I close my eyes and let my fantasy go on the own way. When I’ve calmed down I start writing again.

I know I shouldn’t think like this. It’s very depressing and those words will only make everything worse.

I know much people think I’m not that clever just because I didn’t end school but I had reasons… and those reasons stand in you my Diary…

I stop writing and look at the begin on my diary to read

9 September 1955

Harry (my ‘second dad’) just gave me this book. He said I’ve to write everything in when I am down. I’m curious why.

I chuckle when I read this back. It’s been the first day I’ve written this. After some time I noticed it is good to write the feels away. I’ve learned this when I heard I couldn’t go to the Grammar School because the hospital stuff that cared I hadn’t learn enough. I never got my eleven plus exam which made me really angry. I’ve written all the words on paper and after that moment I felt better. On that point I noticed what Harry meant with writing when I feel down.

I lay down in bed and close my eyes to sleep.