Just when I thought this whole thing was over with, I still have the wake to attend, another excuse to drag this already shitty day out a little longer.
“Come on,” my dad says, resting his hand on my shoulder again, steering me towards the car where my mom and sister are waiting for us. My sister didn’t bring her daughter, Lissy with her today. She’s only two years old and wouldn’t understand all of this anyway.
Grace thought the world of Lissy. She helped Tori out a lot soon after Lissy was born. The adoration that poured through her words as she would sit and talk about what Lissy got up to that particular day, or the look she always had in her eye as she gazed down at that little girl still tears at my insides.
Guilt.
Guilt is the one feeling I just can’t shake. The endless what ifs.
Grace always wanted a family, and I couldn’t even give her that.
I failed.
I failed her as a husband, and that is something that will stick with me forever.
If I have to hear‘I’m very sorry for your loss’one more time, I’m going to explode. My heart is pounding, and my head feels like it’s splitting in two. I can feel a wave of anger mixed with anxiety slowly rising up through my body and I’m nearing breaking point.
Grace’s mother’s house is chock-full of people and it’s starting to feel claustrophobic, so much so I’m finding it hard to breathe.
I only recognise a handful of these people and I don’t know how much more of this I can take.
A soft hand lands on my forearm and I turn to look at a woman who I vaguely recognise but can’t place. “I’m very sorry for your loss, Dwight. Today was a lovely service, one of the loveliest I’ve been too.”
“Been to a lot of funerals have you? I’m glad it was entertaining enough for you.” I reply dryly, shrugging off her touch and walking away, weaving through the clusters of people and through into the back yard where the crisp cool air hits my face.
I pull on my tie, loosening it around my neck before unbuttoning the top two buttons and finally I can breathe. I soak up the fresh air, inhaling deeply through my nose, tipping my head back to look up at the sky. Thick heavy clouds hang low, threatening rain again.
“Are you alright, Son?” my dad asks, coming to a stop beside me.
Can I not be alone for five seconds?
“Dwight, don’t be like that,” he says.
Shit, I must have said that out loud.
“I know this must be difficult for you, but we’re here if you want to talk, sometimes it helps.”
“That’s the problem, you’re always there.” I snap. “Whether it’s you, or mom, or Tori, there’s always someone there and it’s driving me insane.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I see my mom stepping through the back door. “What’s going on?” she asks, her eyebrows knitted in question as she looks between me and my dad.
“Son, we just want to be there for you, to help you through this.”
“But it’s not helping! I understand you want to help, but it’s suffocating me. I just want to be left alone to deal with this my own way, is that so much to ask?”
“Dwight, being alone isn’t the answer, you need us around to support you, that’s what family’s about,” my mom says, stepping forward, reaching out to touch my arm but I step back before she can reach me, and I see her face fall in disappointment, her bottom lip beginning to tremble. “Dwight, we’re just worried about you.”
“Well, you don’t have to. I’m not going to jump off a bridge or drink myself into a coma if that’s what you’re worried about.”
My mom releases a whimper, covering her mouth with her hand.
“Dwight, there’s no need for that,” my dad says, his voice hardening.
I run a hand through my hair, taking a couple of steps back. “I’ve got to get out of here.”
“What do you mean?”
I don’t bother to answer my dad, I just turn on my heel and storm back inside, pushing past the crowd towards the front door.
