I am in a heavy black cloud nothing to see, nothing to hear. Just this heaviness in my whole body. So, heavy that I cannot move, I can't remember how to open my eyes. Then I start to hear noises a buzz of a machine. Clicking of feet near me, quiet talking. I lie still, I strain to hear and makes sense of it all.  Next, I feel some light shining on my closed eyes a pink glow. I struggle to open them... Success, I am in a bright white place. Someone is bending over me. He says my name and again. I try to remember how to talk. No words come, but I blink hard. Again he calls me, again I try to answer. Suddenly I feel something on my chin and my chest, my eyes start to wonder the place seeing a white cast on my arm and leg, what happened. My breaths became faster and faster, I start to worry.

" Ace, It's alright calm down. Come on take deep breaths." The man says, all I could do was take deep breaths to calm down. " Okay, good... good... Ace you are in a hospital, blink one for yes and blink twice for no, I'm going to ask you some questions okay?" He asks and I blink once.

" Do you remember what happened?" I blink twice. " You were in a car accident... do you remember that?" He asks as a memory comes back, I blink once. "Okay, good. Do you want you parents in here, or no you want some time alone?" I blink twice, I want to see them. Never once did I cry in front of people. I was always calm and collected, stoic. I held my head high and smiled in the face of everyone. Yet, as soon as I saw my parents, the mask dropped and tears fell. It was often for little reason; even the memory of the smallest thing would send me into about of heaving sobs, tears wetting my pillow behind me.

" Ace, mommy's right here. Everythings going to be alright." Mom says as she comes into the room and sitting in the chair grabbing my good hand, dad stands there next to her looking at me. She starts to hum a melody that always kept me calm as a child. She wipes my tears away and I calm down, I calm down so much that I doze off. Waking up again there was a cup of water with a straw next to me, where my eyes were. Mom sleeping next to my hand, and dad walks back into the room.

" Heyy.." dad says quietly as he looks at mom, I throw a smirk at him. " Everything going to be alright, do you want some water?" He adds, I'm able to nod, he put the straw to my lips and I take a little sip. " The doctor says that they are able to take off the neck brace in a few days, and you'll have to stay here for a few days too. But, that's what they told me, I'll ask them when they come in here again." 

A few minutes later the nurse comes in and tells me the exact same thing that dad says. After mom gets up, the doctor comes in and encourage me to talk, he tells me that I sprained my ankle and dislocated my hand, but nothing was too serious. But, when I ask what happened to Ande everyone stayed silent. The news passed through me like a hurricane. The desolation I felt was all consuming. My mind became an icy wasteland, the wind howled in my soul and wrapped icy tentacles around my heart so tightly it almost stopped beating. I felt emotionally bankrupt. The was nothing left to feel, nothing left to say, nothing left but the void that enveloped my mind in swirling blackness. One, only one tear that fell from my eye.

Days later, I got discharged from the hospital, not saying much since Andre. All I am is sadness, every other emotion pushed from my being. Where there was the love, the light, the laughter is an aching hollowness. I was honest, truthful and full of more love for him than he can ever understand. 

The funeral service was slower than a country bus, taking just as many detours. Everyone had a memory to share, a favorite hymn to sing. Whoever arranged it must have agreed to every request. By half way through some of the old dears were swaying on their feet and were it not for the keen spring wind pushing through the open church doors there might have been more to bury than just Andre.

I would describe my heartache as like the music of a great orchestra. At times it was quiet and allowed him to function, at other times the violins would play and I would be sad, then at other times it would rise to a crescendo and the anger would burst from my chest in a vicious shout of anguish. Right now there was a flute playing and I was able to remember his with fondness, that was rare, though, and I enjoyed the moment.

The coffin gleamed in the early morning light that streamed through the cathedral windows. It was expertly crafted not to bring comfort to the departed but to soothe living. It was built with love to be the final resting place of one who had been so adored in their lifetime. It's faux-gold handles and polished sheen helped to reduce their trauma to wracking waves that were at least more manageable.  They laid flowers on the top that would be placed at the gravestone, everything beautiful to hide a reality their hearts could not bear. They brought him here to entrust him to God, to pray that he take good care of him, as in their hearts they knew he would. But all at once heaven seemed so far away and they would be glad of this grave to visit when they needed him. Then too they would bring the flowers and imagine him safe and sleep in this fine casket.

It was more than crying, it was the kids of desolate sobbing that comes from a person drained of all hope. I sank to my knees at the grave, not caring for the damp mud that dirtied my dress. My tears mingled with the rain and my gasping wails echoed around the gravestones. The pain that flowed from me was as palpable was the frigid fall wind and soon the only person at my side was dad, struggling to keep my tears silent, looking up to the watery skies and heaven beyond. I had to believe my baby was safe up there, comfortable and warm. To look down would be to imagine my cold in a box, bereft of his cuddles and goodnight kisses.