Sunday, January 14th, 2007
A conversation with the dead
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cajun_devildog @ 12:49am
The ground was still wet from a storm that had rolled in off the Gulf the night before, a real earth shattering lightning filled thunderboomer that had downed trees and spawned a few funnel clouds according to the morning news. By dawn though, the storm clouds were thinning and the winter sun was streaming through the gaps.
GW stepped out of his rental car, bouquet of flowers clutched tightly in one hand. He had meant to come here earlier in his stay, but family had found ways to keep him busy and now this was his last chance before flying back to Las Vegas.
The churchyard was quiet except for the wind rustling through nearby trees and the chirping of songbirds welcoming the early morning sunshine. GW walked silently through the rows of headstones, the bones of many of his ancestors rested here and it had always been a place of reverence for him rather than something to fear. The neatly kept stones were worn smooth and faded with the passage of time, but his focus was on one of much more recent vintage.
"Hello chere," GW knelt by the grave and deposited the flowers against the headstone. "Sorry I haven't been by before dis since I been back, but de family, dey worried about me non?"
He reached out and ran his fingers along the engraved letters in the headstone. "I've been doin' all right. Vegas was a good move, de band is really popular out west and I settled in good," GW paused and wiped his eyes. It had been 27 months since he'd lost his wife, and even though he had begun to move on with his lfe the pain resurfaced almost as fresh as it had been that awful day in the hospital when they'd finally told him that she was gone.
It took him several minutes to compose himself, but eventually GW looked back at the headstone. "I've met someone, a woman. Her name's Meredith, a real good woman. I love her Helene, she makes me feel alive again chere." his voice was rough, thick with emotion. "I'll love you till de day I die, but I can't live in de past. You'd want me t' move on with my life, your dad an my family both kept tellin' me dat an I didn't want t' hear it."
"Don' get me wrong, chere," GW held up a hand, as if to forestall a question from his wife's spirit. "I'd've been faithful and not given Mere another look if you were still alive. I loved you from de moment I saw you dat night in your parent's house an' I wanted to spend de rest o' my life wit' you an have a family together."
"But we don' always get what we want do we?" GW asked as he stood. He ran a hand along the top of the headstone. It was his firm belief that whatever happened to him in the rest of his life, part of him would be reunited with Helene in the afterlife. It might not exactly be square with Catholic doctrine, but neither were the supernatural and the abilities the women in his family.
"Wait for me chere, I'll be wit' you again one day."
GW stepped out of his rental car, bouquet of flowers clutched tightly in one hand. He had meant to come here earlier in his stay, but family had found ways to keep him busy and now this was his last chance before flying back to Las Vegas.
The churchyard was quiet except for the wind rustling through nearby trees and the chirping of songbirds welcoming the early morning sunshine. GW walked silently through the rows of headstones, the bones of many of his ancestors rested here and it had always been a place of reverence for him rather than something to fear. The neatly kept stones were worn smooth and faded with the passage of time, but his focus was on one of much more recent vintage.
"Hello chere," GW knelt by the grave and deposited the flowers against the headstone. "Sorry I haven't been by before dis since I been back, but de family, dey worried about me non?"
He reached out and ran his fingers along the engraved letters in the headstone. "I've been doin' all right. Vegas was a good move, de band is really popular out west and I settled in good," GW paused and wiped his eyes. It had been 27 months since he'd lost his wife, and even though he had begun to move on with his lfe the pain resurfaced almost as fresh as it had been that awful day in the hospital when they'd finally told him that she was gone.
It took him several minutes to compose himself, but eventually GW looked back at the headstone. "I've met someone, a woman. Her name's Meredith, a real good woman. I love her Helene, she makes me feel alive again chere." his voice was rough, thick with emotion. "I'll love you till de day I die, but I can't live in de past. You'd want me t' move on with my life, your dad an my family both kept tellin' me dat an I didn't want t' hear it."
"Don' get me wrong, chere," GW held up a hand, as if to forestall a question from his wife's spirit. "I'd've been faithful and not given Mere another look if you were still alive. I loved you from de moment I saw you dat night in your parent's house an' I wanted to spend de rest o' my life wit' you an have a family together."
"But we don' always get what we want do we?" GW asked as he stood. He ran a hand along the top of the headstone. It was his firm belief that whatever happened to him in the rest of his life, part of him would be reunited with Helene in the afterlife. It might not exactly be square with Catholic doctrine, but neither were the supernatural and the abilities the women in his family.
"Wait for me chere, I'll be wit' you again one day."
