Georgia's Last Words

Chapter Twenty-Eight

I’ve been taking my pills dutifully for a complete month now, this includes the sneaking-of-them incident. It’s strange trying to decide if I feel any different. My counseling sessions have been drilling questions about how I feel, and I hate it. Sometimes it’s like Dr. S is just watching me, waiting for me to slipup on a lie or something. For some odd reason he doesn’t seem to trust me, and it doesn’t help that Spring Break is here. He doesn’t know what I’m doing, I don’t want advice about it. 

Cooper also doesn’t know the full extent of our trip. All I told him was that we were going to take a road trip. He didn’t really seem thrown off by it all, like it was as normal as the wind blows. Spring Break and I’m dragging him on an unknown adventure, someone would usually question it. I know that he’s being a bit touchy on subjects since our little fight. Though, I wonder if he might want to know where we’re going. 

Between the pills and the sessions each week, I’ve come to a horrible conclusion that I need to go back. Face my demons of doubt and loss is crucial now. It’s becoming harder and harder to go everyday without closure. I don’t know if talking to Grams again will do anything, but I have to try something. Last time I felt slightly better afterward, but this time everything is different. This time I’ve got something on my side. 

I’ve got to go back to Georgia, if only for a couple words. 

***

The cemetery is empty and deafly silent. There’s not a living soul moving around the grounds. I’m not sure if I should welcome the lack of people or fill up with nerves. Well, I’m not completely alone out here, Cooper is sitting in the car. He had to stay there, I have to do this on my own. 

I walk along the tombstones and plaques that scatter the grounds. There’s huge slabs of stone, small and flat glass plaques, and simple undecorated graves. It’s walking through history while staying in the present. All these people with their own stories and all dead. Their tales lost with the end of a beating heart. It’s like watching old reruns on television. You know the story, but each time an episode plays you find yourself mixing it with other reruns. It continues until you combined the entire series into one story. You leave out every detail that isn’t crucial to understanding. Like a person’s life, so many episodes, but you sum it up in a couple words. They lived an adventurous, good, bad, long, or loving life with many people. It’s a sham to make them sound more interesting then they were. 

I stop in front of Grams’s grave and look towards the sky for a minute. They described her life as fruitful and full of people who loved her. Though there was no mention of her marriage to Gramps, her kids and their lives, or the moments that mattered most to her. There was nothing told about what defined her. When they talk about the dead they only say things that will make the living feel better about it all. No point to it at all, because we still end up mourning. 

Bending down, I kiss the tombstone and sit down, legs crossed. “Grams I don’t know if you can hear me or anything, but I just want to let you know I love you. I miss you too, but I know you can’t come back. Sometimes I sit in my room and wonder if God is just waiting around for the perfect moment to send you back to Earth. Maybe you wouldn’t be old anymore, but you’d still be Grams. I guess it wouldn’t be you, but I don’t know. 

“Anyways, I just wanted to come and talk to you. I’m not quite sure what about. You know I’ve been trying to deal with your death for months now and it’s not easy. They’ve put me on this medication to make me feel better, but I don’t feel like myself. It’s almost as if I’m in a daze half the time, the other half it’s this pure blissfulness. And I’m not sure if I am totally okay with feeling happy when you’re gone.”

The tears start, but they’re slow and it’s not desperation. It’s sort of like crying because you finally understand something. I’m not sure if it’s closure, or rather simple knowing. “