Landfill

My mother and father made the arrangements for the funeral. I was too out of it to think about it at all. I couldn't keep myself from crying at any given moment; it was an endless track of me sobbing.

It was the night before Ryan's funeral that my mom had come up to my room. Jimmy had finally settled at the end of my bed, but I could sense he would prance away soon. I felt that even he was tired of my crying.

"Nikki, I've got to talk to you." She said as she came in.

I rubbed my eyes; they were burning and raw; "Yeah?"

She sat down beside me, "Do you believe that you could make it tomorrow?"

I nodded, "I have to."

"You don't have to," she said softly, "You can stay here and be alone if you want."

"I want to. I do, really...it'll be the last time I'm really be near him." I swallowed.

She patted my knee, "Alright honey."

I sniffed, thinking, "Did you ever find Ryan's mom?"

She hummed, "Yes, but she doesn't want to come. She didn't say much."

I felt a bit angry upon hearing that. I decided not to say anything toward it. "What's her name?"

"Ilene." My mom replied, "She's married with 2 other sons. Ilene is a sweet woman, Nicole..."

My mom could sense how upset I was feeling towards the news.

"I don't know her reasonings on why she doesn't want to come, but maybe she's mourning, too. Maybe she doesn't want to remember her son that way."

I could only nod, holding back a sharp wit. I swallowed again, licked my lips, "I need to find something to wear," I said mostly to myself. "I...I've never been to a funeral before, mom, what do I do?"

"Nikki," my mom took hold of my hand, "Just calm down, I know that you're upset and you're lost," she seemed to ramble shortly, trying to comfort me. "I'll help you."

I shook my head, "Shouldn't I be doing things on my own?"

My mom frowned, "It's only been 8 days, Nicole. You don't bounce back after a week; I don't care what anyone says, healing takes more than a week."

I exhaled, "I...I know. I'm just...I don't know what to do. I want to do something right."

"Who says you're doing anything wrong?"

"No one," I began, "I just don't want to do the wrong thing."

"You aren't, believe me." My mom reassured me quietly.

I exhaled again, "So...I do nothing?"

My mom shook her head, "You deal, Nikki. You heal and deal, and then you try and live life the way you want to. No one is pressuring you or expecting anything, other than for you to mourn and we all understand."

My mom's words fit well and clicked into my head. I finally felt my lips twitch and warmth fill my mouth and cheeks. "I can do that."

My mom smiled back, "I hope so, Darling."

When I had gone to bed that night, I laid there for moments thinking about Ryan; not the bad things. I smiled at the thought of him teasing me about my little quips and my laugh. Even after smiling about it, it still hit me that he was dead, and that I wouldn't see him anymore. I then remembered that I didn't have any pictures of him and I together; only one he took with his cell phone months ago that was probably lost somewhere. I had a small amount of him that wasn't impressive, I should be ashamed at how little I documented him in memory.

I only had him in thought. The physical form is what I longed for. I truly expected to start seeing him like a crazy person, but up to this point, I hadn't. He was just in my head. He was a sweet, wonderful, tumultuous and wild memory; someone I loved more than I had thought I would.

So, I fell asleep with a heavy heart, and tears in my eyes. But, this night I hadn't had a nightmare. I must've been so tired that my imagination wouldn't allow it. Or maybe the heavens knew I was facing a big day. Whatever it was, I was grateful for the 6 hours of dreamless sleep.


I wore black jeans and a charcoal grey blouse. I didn't do my makeup, my hair was pulled back, and my anxiety and sadness was at bay, but unthreatening. All of my break down was like a storm far off at sea. Still, I was sure it would wash over me and suck me in as soon as we got to the mortuary.

Since Ryan wasn't practicing any religion, I was informed we'd be having a humanist funeral. It was merely the same as any other funeral, but without any religious ceremonies; crosses or praying. My mom told me that Ryan would be buried in a black casket, plotted beside his father, all within a short hour.

I had no qualms about it, I was sure that this was truly Ryan's wants and desires. He was shy, he didn't expect anything extravagant, and that's exactly how he wanted to be remembered and buried. I was glad for it; he had a small circle of friends, and then myself, my parents, Elaine and Lisa.

My hands her tremulous as soon as we pulled up at the mortuary. I swallowed all of it, with it seeping in me again and again. My heart raced, I held myself, looking around at the gravestones, the plots, and tried not to think about it. As much as I had written about death, I never wanted to experience it in real time, my real life. I had to suck it up and get it over with.

The gathering of Ryan's friends had all hugged and spoken to me, but I was silent. I said a few appreciative thank you's and kept quiet. Ryan's casket rested on the catafalque and was only about a yard from me as soon as we walked in; the casket was closed, the room was ominous and everyone around whispered amongst themselves. I wasn't sure what to do, what to say or to expect.

"Did he not want obituaries?" I asked my mom.

She shook her head, "No. Just this, Nikki."

Simplicity was his speciality. He wanted things sliced and diced as quickly as possible. He wasn't one to drag things out; that's why he wanted to marry me so fast. He didn't want to wait for anyone else, he was happy with me. I should've appreciated that more when he had been here.

His friends, whose names left me, all went over to the casket and said things. They never disturbed the polished black oak, just looked it over. The spray of funeral flowers were simple, just white and red array of plants I didn't know the names of. Elaine had patted my back from time to time, and made sure I was alright; I had sat down, expecting to cry, but I never did. I watched everyone around, all pass and stop at the casket, listening to them reminisce about something happy involving him, but I tuned out by the good part.

A while later, it was time to head to the plot. Spencer and 3 other Ryan's other male friends were the pallbearers who carried his casket along while the rest of us followed. As my eyes wandered the casket, my mind muddle with how short this all was.

How his life was so short. The whole ordeal had been short. Our dating was short. Out love was short. Our lives together was cut short.

The pallbearers rested the casket on the metal lowering device, and then we all were silent. The man who ran the mortuary asked us to say something, but no one did, except Jon. I didn't listen, I had watched the casket again, looking it over.

I began to churn it all in my head as I looked at it. I had a conspiracy. I had thought that this was a hoax, a joke that Ryan was playing upon me.

"Open the casket." I said suddenly, cutting Jon off. "Open it up."

I sounded irrational, so no one said anything. I stepped forward, looking at the owner, "Open the casket."

"I'm afraid I can't, miss." The older man looked worried. "I could be sued."

"Please, open it." I begged him with threatening tears.

I felt arms around me, "Nicole, come on back, sweetie." It was Elaine who had grabbed me.

I ripped away from her, "No! Open the goddamn casket!"

It was my mom's turn to grab me, "Honey, please, it's almost over."

"Open the casket! I want to see him!"

"He can't, Nikki." Spencer chimed in.

"Yes he can! Open it!" I screamed, and let the tears fall.

My dad grabbed me tightly and pulled me back; by this time my emotional hurricane that was at bay came swirling around me. I remember crying and screaming before I was taken back inside the mortuary. I was seated inside the small family gathering room and was left to cry; my dad had said he was on the other side, holding the door closed, making sure I calmed myself before I could return.

I most certainly wouldn't calm down or return.