Finding Strength (6 page)

Chapter Nine

I feel myself falling back into that dark place I was in after Lindsey died. It’s a safe place for me. There is no pain there because there is nothing but an empty shell shrouded in darkness. I don’t have to feel the hurt, the torture, the torment of a life without Jacob in it. There are so many unanswered questions but the one that haunts me the most is why. Why has this happened to me? Why Jacob? Why does my little boy now have to grow up without his daddy? As if I haven’t been through enough already to last me a lifetime, life threw me one more battle to face. It seems as though I will never be able to live a life a free of pain.

Sitting with my back to the wall, knees pulled up tight to my chest, I let the tears take control. It’s now, when I am alone in my despair that I can freely let the pain consume me. My body is wracked with sobs, my throat raw with the screams that have escaped me. Every part of me is hurting as my emotions pour out. Breathing has turned into heaving breaths and my lungs burn for air. But I can’t stop the tears long enough to draw in a breath. I let go until the black hole of emptiness encompasses me in its depths, wrapping me tightly in its embrace. 

I hear a light knocking on my door and I open my eyes. Blinking into the dark trying to adjust my eyes, I see a sliver of light when the door opens a fraction.

“Anna?” I hear as the door pushes open further and Amy steps into the room.

"Yeah.” I manage to croak out past the dryness of my throat. Amy walks over to where I am and sits down beside my crumpled body. I feel her pushing my hair back from my face, grabbing all the pieces that have stuck to my skin.

“I made you some dinner,” she says softly.

“Not hungry,” I barely whisper out.

Amy lays down on her side, facing me so that our faces are no more than a few inches apart. “Anna, I am not going to stand by and watch you go down this road. You need to take care of yourself. If you don’t want to do that for you, or even for me, do it for Braxton. That little boy needs you now more than ever,” she tells me sternly but without malice behind her words.

Amy’s words hit me with the force of an atomic bomb. Braxton is my world, I am his, and I am letting him down. He is all I have left of Jacob. I can’t do that to him. I have to be strong and forge ahead through my pain. I know I will never be whole, but I owe it to my son to continue on the best that I know how. I sit up slowly, every muscle in my body is aching and protesting my movements from being curled up in a ball on the floor. My eyes drift up, and through the puffiness, I meet Amy’s caring eyes. I nod once, and with determination, I stand.

While trying to eat as much of the soup Amy made me as I can, my thoughts drift to all of the things tha
t
are going to happen over the next few days and weeks. I don’t know how I am going to make it through, but somehow, I have to find the strength to carry on, to move forward. The thought scares me beyond belief. How much can one person overcome before it’s all too much? How much pain can one heart endure before it simply shrivels in on itself until it’s no longer there?

“Amy?” I call out to her as the fear threatens to overwhelm me. Amy turns around to face me.

“What is it, Anna?” I can see the worry in her eyes, a frown mars her face.

“I’m scared,” I say, dropping my gaze to a scratch on the wooden table. Tears burn the back of my already swollen eyes. “I’m scared,” I pause, “I can’t do this alone. I am barely able to keep up with my emotions. I can’t concentrate on anything, and I have Braxton to take care of, too.” I say, fear tainting every word, tangible on every syllable.

“You don’t have to do this alone. You have me, Anna. You are not just my friend, you are my family and there is no way would I ever let you go through this by yourself. You tell me what you need, and it’s yours.”

Amy places her arm around my shoulder and I let my head fall against hers. “I need Jacob back.” The sound of my sob escapes just as the first tear makes its way down my face.

“I wish I could bring him back, I really do. But I can’t. I’m so sorry, Anna. I wish life was a pathway of fairness, I wish with all I am that I could give you what you want.”

I feel Amy’s tears mixing with mine on my cheek. She bears this pain with me, not allowing me to suffer alone.

It’s late by the time I manage to rein in my tears enough so that I can finish the bowl of soup. Shane had put Braxton to bed about an hour ago. On my way to my room, I stop in and watch my son sleep. Taking in a deep, shuttering breath, I lean over and kiss his cheek, willing the tears to stay away. Turning, I walk out of his room and into my own. Mindlessly, I change out of my jeans and t-shirt and into some sleep pants and a tank top. I crawl into bed and pull the covers to my neck. Grabbing Jacob’s pillow, I pull it to me, desperately trying to hold on to anything that is his. Tomorrow is not going to be easy. Planning his funeral is not something I want to do, but there is no way around it. I know what that finality feels like. I don’t want to go through it again; however, life has left me no choice. The inmates who took part of me away, left me no choice. I drift into a light, unpeaceful sleep.

After tossing and turning all night long, I find myself awake before the sun has risen. I am agitated and antsy. There is no going back to sleep, and after the hellish nightmare I had where I envisioned Jacob’s death, I don’t want to even try. I toss the blankets to the side and drag my tired, worn out self from bed. As I enter the bathroom, I catch a glimpse of my reflection in the mirror. My eyes are still puffy and red, my hair looks like I have several birds nesting in it, and my face is drawn and pale. I don’t even recognize myself.

I turn away from the stranger in the mirror and start the shower, hopeful that I can wash away some of the evidence of the toll Jacob’s death has taken on me. Maybe I can once again look somewhat human. I scrub my skin so hard it becomes red and angry. I continue scrubbing until I feel the first ounce of pain. I shut the water off and step out of the shower. Taking the towel from the rack, it’s then I notice I have made my skin raw. Maybe that pain will somehow overshadow the pain inside of my heart.

Shane takes Braxton to the park while Amy takes me to the last place I want to be. She helps me plan Jacob’s funeral with the help of the funeral director. Actually, I just nodded yes or no when asked a question. My body was present, but my mind was somewhere else. Call it self-preservation, or just avoidance, either way, it’s the only way I could make it through.

Jacob will be laid to rest in his best suit, two days from now, alongside of Lindsey. I thought maybe having only a graveside service would be best, but then I thought about all that he has done for me and changed my mind. People need to be able to say a proper goodbye and to be told about this incredible man who saved me from myself.

Present Day

It’s lunchtime by the time I recount the horrific details of that dreaded day. Amy left to go grab us some food and get some fresh air. I don’t blame her though, the sadness lingers and it’s a copious presence. It presses on you, trying to smother you as it closes around you. I had Amy open the window before she left to get us some lunch. The breeze blowing in is light and smells of fall. It helps relieve some of the despondency in the room.

It doesn’t take long for Amy to return with homemade soup from the local diner. The smell of beef broth permeates the room, making my stomach growl in the process. Amy pulls out the card table that we now keep folded up in the closet and sets it up between the two chairs. Setting the two bowls of vegetable soup onto the table along with some sweet corn muffins, she then helps me into one of the chairs.

“What time will your parents be here tomorrow?” she asks, then blows on her spoonful of soup.

“I think around noon.” I take a bite of the soup and let the flavors dance on my tongue before swallowing. “This is really good.”

“Do you want me to bring some lasagna over for lunch then?”

“That’d be good. I’m sure they want to see you and you know my dad loves your lasagna.” I grab one of the muffins Amy placed between us.

We finish our soup and muffins and Amy helps me back into the bed. She cleans up the lunch mess and folds the table and puts it away. She moves one of th
e
chairs back beside the bed and then grabs her notebook and pen. The heaviness the breeze had removed from the room returns as it is time again to visit that sorrowful day from my past.

Chapter Ten

July 30
th
, 2006

The last two days were spent in a haze. I have been dreading this day and tried to will the time to slow down. I don’t want to face the reality of my life, not today. I don’t want this chapter to close. I’m not ready for it. I know I need to keep Braxton as close to me as possible if I want any chance of survival today. Burying the love of your life, half of your heart and soul, is something I wasn’t prepared to do. Just as I wasn’t prepared to bury Lindsey, and now I am leaving him next to her.

I know they will take care of each other, but I am human, and I am selfish. I want them here with me. Not laying in the cold, dark, damp earth.

“It’s time to go, Anna,” Shane says.

I don’t reply, just simply pull myself from the chair and try to conjure up the numbness that will allow me make it through the next few hours. I take Braxton from Shane’s arms as I pass him and hold him close to my heart. Today, he will be my anchor.

The feeling of deja vu hits me as soon as I make my way to the front of the chapel and into the front row. I remember all too well this feeling, the hurt, and the pain from when I laid Lindsey to rest. The numbness
I
tried so hard to find is nowhere to be found and I feel every break in my heart as it cracks open. Its fissures spreading like the cracks in the ground from a major earthquake all splintering from the hole in the center of my heart. There is nowhere to hide, no way to escape the torture that feels like a thousand knives ripping me apart. I do the only thing I can, I close my eyes and hold on to my little man while the tears flow freely from my eyes.

I never imagined so many people would show up to pay their respects to Jacob. I never knew this many people knew him, or even cared. I am humbled at how many others loved him. Listening to one after another get up and talk about memories they have with Jacob, or how he touched their lives in some way, reminds me of why I fell in love with him in the first place. Because he did that for me, he touched me and made me whole again. In the same token, I am saddened by how many others will miss out on the chance to know Jacob, how many more lives could have been effected by his presence but won’t be now that he is gone.

As the soft music plays at the end of the service, I stand and follow the casket carrying Jacob out of the church. I watch in complete silence as they load him into the hearse to take him to the cemetery, where he will be put to rest next to Lindsey. The sun is shining today, filling the day with warmth, and I tell myself that it’s Jacob, once again surrounding me with his love. I don’t care if that isn’t the case. I don’t care if that’s not logical. It’s what I need right now and so I choose to believe it. 

The graveside service was hard for me to bear. The signal of the end, the finality of us, of Jacob being a door that is closing for good that no amount of prying can reopen. Holding back my tears is impossible. The sobs that want to escape are clawing at me, trying to make their way out. I hold them back, barely, trying to be as strong as I can for Braxton. He doesn’t understand any of this. He doesn’t know his daddy is never coming back. Part of me is grateful for that, that Braxton can escape this pain. I am selfish enough to rather have Jacob here so that Braxton never has to doubt if his dad loved him or if he was a good man or not. He would know firsthand and not just through the stories people tell him.

After placing the single red rose on top of the box containing the better half of me, I walk with Amy back to the waiting car, slide in and lean my head back against the headrest. Amy and Shane offered up their home for those who wanted to come by after the funeral. I’m thankful that she did so that I wouldn’t have to be reminded every day when I walk into my house of this day. I will have enough to remind me of Jacob’s absence as it is, such as the emptiness that already exist without Jacob there.

There are so many people here and I don’t personally know even half of them. As each one comes by to give their condolences to me, I listen carefully and try to remember each story they tell. I want to remember every detail so that I can tell Braxton these stories of his dad, not just the ones I have in my memory. Focusing on the memories of others takes me away from my reality and allows me to live in another time when Jacob was still here. If there was a way for me to stay away from what I know I will have to face in the coming days, I would do it just so that I don’t have to feel the pain.

By the time the last guest leaves, it’s past nine. Braxton is already asleep for the night. Amy took him from me after begging and pleading with me to let her lay him down. I didn’t want to let go of him, not even for a minute. I wander into the kitchen where Amy and Shane are quietly cleaning up the mess, packing away the leftover food that was brought.