Remember that one person you never got to say goodbye to? It was unknown in the moment but you'd never be graced with their presence again. Perhaps they weren't as gone as you might believe. They're still around but just as distant as they were before you met. It wrecks the heart, shattering but not completely. It's when the mending is nearly restored that they find you where you least expect.
I struggled to get my son's shoes on as my wife finished getting everything together for my dad's birthday. My son, James, wouldn't stop fussing and trying to kick his shoes off just as I had managed to get them on him. He giggled as he did though, as if watching me struggle filled him with some kind of twisted joy. My wife, Meghan, finally finished what she was doing and came in the living room to help me. Somehow, what took me nearly ten minutes took her less than one.
Finally, I grabbed my dad's gift from the kitchen counter and we all headed out the door. I felt bad not stopping by the nursing home to see my dad so often. He was the only family, outside the ones in my house, that I really had. Everyone else was so distant that I'd be lucky to hear anything but once a year from them, if that.
As we got in the car and headed down the street, I looked in the back mirror to see James looking around the scenery as we drove past. He was mesmerized by it all, a look of wonder on his face. I couldn't remember the last time I took him to see his grandpa. I knew they loved each other to death, though. When they were near each other, they were nearly inseparable and always laughing and having the time of their lives.
It didn't take long before we made it to the nursing home, an unsettling surprise awaiting us. As we pulled into the parking lot, there was yellow caution tape all over the front entrance. The parking lot had ambulances and police cars scattered about. I parked and my wife and I stepped out to talk to an officer by the front entrance.
"Sorry, nobody is allowed inside," the officer said.
"What happened here?" I asked.
"From the reports, someone came in last night, killed everyone inside, and hid the bodies somewhere." he explained rather bluntly.
"What do you mean hid the bodies?" I asked, fighting back tears. "My dad was in there, what did they do?"
"I'm sorry for your loss," the officer started. "We searched all through the building but no bodies could be found. None except the workers."
There's nothing I could do but cry. It was difficult to keep a brave face, especially around my son. He kept asking about his grandpa but they only thing we could tell him was, "He's in a better place." Poor kid has no idea what that means. I was afraid to go into detail, but I didn't want him to think his grandfather had left him behind.
The next afternoon, we made plans for his funeral while James played outside. It was a cool fall afternoon with plenty of leaves for him to play around in. I watched him from the kitchen window as he played around in the backyard. It was apparent by the smile on his face that he was having a good time.
Meanwhile, my wife and I were making phone calls to my family, as well as the police station to see if there were any updates. Unfortunately, they didn't have any leads. It was heartbreaking to think my dad would have a funeral without his body being present for burial. I wish I would have at least had a chance to say goodbye. Why did it have to be on his birthday of all days?
Just as my wife got off the phone, wiping a tear from her face, we heard James screaming from outside. It was hard to tell what he was saying. We ran out there to see what was the matter.
As we got closer, we saw a pile of leaves he had crawled out from. He pointed to it and we screamed as we saw what lay beneath the leaves. My dead father.
I struggled to get my son's shoes on as my wife finished getting everything together for my dad's birthday. My son, James, wouldn't stop fussing and trying to kick his shoes off just as I had managed to get them on him. He giggled as he did though, as if watching me struggle filled him with some kind of twisted joy. My wife, Meghan, finally finished what she was doing and came in the living room to help me. Somehow, what took me nearly ten minutes took her less than one.
Finally, I grabbed my dad's gift from the kitchen counter and we all headed out the door. I felt bad not stopping by the nursing home to see my dad so often. He was the only family, outside the ones in my house, that I really had. Everyone else was so distant that I'd be lucky to hear anything but once a year from them, if that.
As we got in the car and headed down the street, I looked in the back mirror to see James looking around the scenery as we drove past. He was mesmerized by it all, a look of wonder on his face. I couldn't remember the last time I took him to see his grandpa. I knew they loved each other to death, though. When they were near each other, they were nearly inseparable and always laughing and having the time of their lives.
It didn't take long before we made it to the nursing home, an unsettling surprise awaiting us. As we pulled into the parking lot, there was yellow caution tape all over the front entrance. The parking lot had ambulances and police cars scattered about. I parked and my wife and I stepped out to talk to an officer by the front entrance.
"Sorry, nobody is allowed inside," the officer said.
"What happened here?" I asked.
"From the reports, someone came in last night, killed everyone inside, and hid the bodies somewhere." he explained rather bluntly.
"What do you mean hid the bodies?" I asked, fighting back tears. "My dad was in there, what did they do?"
"I'm sorry for your loss," the officer started. "We searched all through the building but no bodies could be found. None except the workers."
There's nothing I could do but cry. It was difficult to keep a brave face, especially around my son. He kept asking about his grandpa but they only thing we could tell him was, "He's in a better place." Poor kid has no idea what that means. I was afraid to go into detail, but I didn't want him to think his grandfather had left him behind.
The next afternoon, we made plans for his funeral while James played outside. It was a cool fall afternoon with plenty of leaves for him to play around in. I watched him from the kitchen window as he played around in the backyard. It was apparent by the smile on his face that he was having a good time.
Meanwhile, my wife and I were making phone calls to my family, as well as the police station to see if there were any updates. Unfortunately, they didn't have any leads. It was heartbreaking to think my dad would have a funeral without his body being present for burial. I wish I would have at least had a chance to say goodbye. Why did it have to be on his birthday of all days?
Just as my wife got off the phone, wiping a tear from her face, we heard James screaming from outside. It was hard to tell what he was saying. We ran out there to see what was the matter.
As we got closer, we saw a pile of leaves he had crawled out from. He pointed to it and we screamed as we saw what lay beneath the leaves. My dead father.
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