A Funeral (fiction)

Source

They were throwing mud on the dead corpse until the spot that once was a hole was only recognizable with the wet dirt. He took part in the action. He wanted to live it with every detail of it. The last duty he does towards his father. But the last thing he wanted was for it to be the last memory he has of him.

Erasing memories of his father was a skill he mastered through all the last four years.

When the rest of the family were emotional about the funeral, he was cold and detached. He loved his dad, maybe more than everyone else in the crowd did, but he was ready to let go. Maybe he did let go a long while ago. To be precise, since the day he decided that should be the last memory of him.

The old man was terminally ill for years, but one day, during a summer afternoon, he was talking to him, with struggle, yes, but with so much delight that the son could forget his father's illness for a while, or ignore it. He helped him sit, sat next to him, and hugged him. Then, he held his hand and leaned on his shoulder. He remembers the smell of his father's clothes, the touch of his hands, the look of his eyes and the sound of his heavy breath. He remembers the thought he had at that moment "If only I could make him laugh". And so he started talking to him, making him remember funny things from the past. Even things he didn't even witness like the funny stories about his own early childhood that his father told him about.

When he finally made him laugh loudly, he decided that was the "the moment". He sensed the presence of his father with four of his five senses. He enjoyed it, knowing that such joy can't last forever. He was ready to let go ever since.

For the last four year, whenever the old man complains about not being able to walk or to stand, the first thought that comes to his mind was "I wish I don't live long enough to feel what he feels". The second thought was to hold him and help him stand, or think he was standing on his own. He wasn't so heavy after all. The illness made him loose so much weight.

Death has always been there, around them. He could sense it's presence not less clearly than he could sense his father's presence that day. Why cry now that it revealed itself? Why try to look shocked when he knows his father was waiting for this day with no fear. He knows it because his father told him this himself right after the laughter that he cherishes so much.

He was not so good at erasing memories after all.