Finding John
Chapter Two
They say losing someone you love is one of the hardest things to go through. For me, that saying held true. The moment Officer Carney pronounced my mother dead was the moment my life, and everything in it, came crumbling down around me. My mother was like a flagpole, sturdy and unwavering. She never gave up and was determined to finish what she started, no matter how grueling or time-consuming the task was. She was my role model, the person I looked up to, and when she left this earth, my passion for life went along with her. It was as if, now that she was gone, there was nothing to live for anymore.
I remember my father’s reaction when he saw my mother’s lifeless corpse laying at the bottom of the stairs, covered in crimson liquid. He took a sharp intake of breath before a desperate sob escaped from his lips. In less than a second he was down on the floor, crying for his now deceased wife. It was a sad sight, to see a full-grown man, as strong as my father, become so upset to the point of hysteria. Officer Carney silently motioned for me to follow him, explaining, once we reached the next room, that he wanted to give my father a few moments alone with my mother. I nodded silently in understanding, before quickly wiping a tear from my face, not wanting him to see me cry. Because that would show weakness. And I wanted to stay strong, if only for my mother, who I assumed was currently smiling up at me from Heaven.
My mother always told me, over and over again, like a mantra, “Everything happens for a reason, babe.” That phrase kept running through my head while I was sitting there, my tears finally stopped, waiting for my father to come into the room and let Officer Carney and his colleagues take my mother away.
After what seemed like hours, but was probably only a few minutes, my father walked into the room, taking a seat next to me. We just sat there silently for awhile, no one saying a word, just the comforting sounds of our breathing filling the room. Finally, my father turned to me. “Nothing I can say,” he started, “can make this all go away. Nothing I can do can turn back time. This is going to be a hard time for us, but we have to stay strong. For your mother, for the rest of the family, and especially for each other. Do you think you can do that?”
I slowly looked up at my father, his brown eyes piercing into mine, before nodding slightly. “Yeah. I think I can,” I replied.
He smiled at me before grabbing my hand and squeezing it. That motion, no matter how small, made me feel like even though something so drastic had just occurred, everything was going to be okay.
---
The next day at school, I received many condolences about my mother, some from people I had never even talked to before. Even a few of my teachers told me that they were sorry for my loss. But not many felt heartfelt. It was as if some people only said ‘I’m sorry’ to me because they felt as if they should, not because they actually meant it. And even though everyone said that they were sorry, I could still hear chatter about it as I walked down the hallways. Every time someone said something to me, a wave of nostalgia washed over me, reminding me of what had happened the previous night. As much as I was glad that people actually cared, I didn’t like being reminded of the feeling I felt when I had found my mother.
Sara, one of my only friends, hugged me and told me that she loved me like the brother she never had. And that really hit me hard. We’d been friends since grade school, and she had told me that multiple times before, but for some reason, that time it really affected me. I started crying into her shoulder and she consoled me, repeating over and over again that it was going to be okay.
But the biggest shock of the day came during lunch, when Alex Malone sat down next to me and said, “Did you know that your eyes shine like the ocean when the sun hits the waves?” Not “I’m sorry for your loss.” or “It will all be okay.” No, he said, “Did you know that your eyes shine like the ocean when the sun hits the waves?”
I remember my father’s reaction when he saw my mother’s lifeless corpse laying at the bottom of the stairs, covered in crimson liquid. He took a sharp intake of breath before a desperate sob escaped from his lips. In less than a second he was down on the floor, crying for his now deceased wife. It was a sad sight, to see a full-grown man, as strong as my father, become so upset to the point of hysteria. Officer Carney silently motioned for me to follow him, explaining, once we reached the next room, that he wanted to give my father a few moments alone with my mother. I nodded silently in understanding, before quickly wiping a tear from my face, not wanting him to see me cry. Because that would show weakness. And I wanted to stay strong, if only for my mother, who I assumed was currently smiling up at me from Heaven.
My mother always told me, over and over again, like a mantra, “Everything happens for a reason, babe.” That phrase kept running through my head while I was sitting there, my tears finally stopped, waiting for my father to come into the room and let Officer Carney and his colleagues take my mother away.
After what seemed like hours, but was probably only a few minutes, my father walked into the room, taking a seat next to me. We just sat there silently for awhile, no one saying a word, just the comforting sounds of our breathing filling the room. Finally, my father turned to me. “Nothing I can say,” he started, “can make this all go away. Nothing I can do can turn back time. This is going to be a hard time for us, but we have to stay strong. For your mother, for the rest of the family, and especially for each other. Do you think you can do that?”
I slowly looked up at my father, his brown eyes piercing into mine, before nodding slightly. “Yeah. I think I can,” I replied.
He smiled at me before grabbing my hand and squeezing it. That motion, no matter how small, made me feel like even though something so drastic had just occurred, everything was going to be okay.
---
The next day at school, I received many condolences about my mother, some from people I had never even talked to before. Even a few of my teachers told me that they were sorry for my loss. But not many felt heartfelt. It was as if some people only said ‘I’m sorry’ to me because they felt as if they should, not because they actually meant it. And even though everyone said that they were sorry, I could still hear chatter about it as I walked down the hallways. Every time someone said something to me, a wave of nostalgia washed over me, reminding me of what had happened the previous night. As much as I was glad that people actually cared, I didn’t like being reminded of the feeling I felt when I had found my mother.
Sara, one of my only friends, hugged me and told me that she loved me like the brother she never had. And that really hit me hard. We’d been friends since grade school, and she had told me that multiple times before, but for some reason, that time it really affected me. I started crying into her shoulder and she consoled me, repeating over and over again that it was going to be okay.
But the biggest shock of the day came during lunch, when Alex Malone sat down next to me and said, “Did you know that your eyes shine like the ocean when the sun hits the waves?” Not “I’m sorry for your loss.” or “It will all be okay.” No, he said, “Did you know that your eyes shine like the ocean when the sun hits the waves?”