Write on, brother

Note: This is a draft of a story I am play writing, if anyone would like to help me finish it, I think it would be a hoot! Add to it, and lets see what we can come up with. Thanks, Scott




His sadness dripped from every pour on that lonely drive to the cemetery. They had been married 23 years and she had taken sick this past Christmas, fought him on spending money on a doctor every step of the way. Her heart was failing, she was given 2 months to get her affairs in order, and depending on your out look it was good that she completed them 2 weeks early. Their children didn’t seem as concerned for him in terms of his grief as much as for their own lives and their desires that he not come and live with any of them.

At the last minute he had opted out of traveling in the limo with them, and choice to drive by himself. His tears made driving difficult but hell, what did he really care, everything he had ever lived for was going 6 feet under in less than an hour.

Everything that happens at these things happened just like normal, the same words were used to sum up her life, her loves, and her worries, the same tears fell, the same songs were sung, and the same salutations were extended. He took everything in with a numbness he had never felt. Everything was in slow motion and sir real, but he kept it all to himself. The people left quickly to get back to the hustle and bustle of their own lives, each determined to be better at telling those they love just how much. He stood there alone, even the kids had to run. The normal hugs came and went.

His eyes didn’t seem to be focused on anything in particular when the waitress asked him if he wanted the cup he was holding so closely refreshed. He pushed back slightly and reentered the world of the living long enough to say “No thank you”. She shrugged and headed towards the next table. The plate of pork chops and mashed potatoes sat untouched in front of him, and he laughed quietly. He remembered how much he always had loved her cooking, and especially the pork chops. She had stopped cooking the way she had learned from her Mother, and Grandmother almost 10 years before being diagnosed with high cholesterol so this type of meal had been few and far between. Now, with out sampling the food, he knew it would be tasteless in more than one way.