San Jose Cemetery

She chose her steps carefully until she came upon what she was looking for. The early morning sun was already blazing, glaring down with its warm rays. Tears pooled in her eyes as she placed some flowers into a built in vase in that ritualistic way she had of doing things; fingers poised, ginger and rotating each flower until a beautiful, balanced pretty look was achieved. Her fingers flew to her lips as she tried to hold in the small cry that was about to escape. She stepped back and plopped down in the dry, yellowing, crisp grass and let the tears flow and cascade onto the simple headstone. Her emotions came in a rush just as a heavy, damp, hot wind swept across the cemetery. And she wept heavily. Her sobs came in uneven, heaving bursts and her shoulders sagged as her words released her worries, her stress, her sorrows.

"I wish you were here. I wish you could be here to see my son. He's brilliant like you. Bright. Stubborn. Loves playing rough, running, jumping around, never a still moment unless there is something he likes on TV. And he's at the age where he talks about poop, pee and all the gross things little boys go around piping about and never grow out of. He is so smart, Dallace, " and as his name escaped her lips, her shoulders shuddered with a gambit of emotion. "You would love him..."

Her tears increased and she began to hiccup with every other word as ants crawled over her toes and fingers. The sun moved higher in the sky and she heard a boisterous football game somewhere in the distance.

"My life...ah, my life," she chuckled softly amidst her crying. She touched his engraved picture, and bowed her head, rocking back and forth.

"My life is as unpredictable as the chance of rain in Texas. It's such a roller coaster with never-ending ups and downs; it's slightly sickening how much it teeters and totters. Jimmy left me, and in a way, I'm glad you weren't around for that because YOU, Dallace, would have found a way to karate chop all his limbs off...ALL his limbs or poison his beer and piss in it for added spite," she smiled, picturing him wiggle his eyebrows with that mischievous grin and the famous monkey face. A small, one passenger airplane raced down the airport runway that was across the cemetery, and she turned her head to the right to watch it take off. Her tears stopped for a moment as she felt a gratitude wash over her for such an appropriate resting place for Dallace, who loved jets, airplanes, and anything that could race above and beyond the limits of the sky. A small breathe of wind lifted her bangs out of her face and eyes and she gave a long, slow sigh. She turned back to the headstone and tears flowed again though not as abundant.

"I've had a difficult time loving myself....or rather, being proud of myself. I think you'd understand this and I wonder sometimes what advice you would give me, wise, younger brother. You always had a way of putting things in perspective. Well, all of you Yakana boys...you all are wise beyond your years. But remember those nights staying up, talking about philosophy, feelings, religion, race, humans, parallel universes....ah, Dallace, if I could hear your voice and words again..." her voice trailed off as she silently choked on the lump in her throat. Her head dropped on the headstone as a long, mournful wail burst out of her mouth. Salty tears streamed down her face, swirling with the dirt in the crevices of the gray granite headstone. The walls and barriers she'd built around her emotions came tumbling and she poured out every emotion, her body rocking with anguish, anger, sadness, hurt, a broken heart, anxiety, and yearning. And with every new wave of emotion, she let a cry escape her throat and her throat became dry as each wail became louder, each sob growing in pitch. Her mind flashed back and forth between past and present. The images she could not get rid of, stamped in her head of that night she lost him. The sounds, the voices, the events. Rewind. Play. Rewind more. Play again. Rewind. Pause. Play again. And slowly she came back to the present, as her tears soaked the right side of the headstone, washing over his picture. The sun was high in the sky, baking the back of her neck. She flinched as she realized the ants were now biting her. And she felt someone else's presence.

She was not alone and her head snapped up out of her commiserating. An older woman stood in the row in front of her, two headstones to the right. She was facing a polished, glossy, black headstone, her left hand resting on top of the headstone, her right hand gripping a tissue. The old woman knelt down and kissed the picture on the headstone. And then the woman wept. And Sabrina heard her own anguish echoed in this woman's soft sobs. She shed tears with the woman and contemplated her pain as a mother loosing her son.

I know such pain. I hear your grief. And though mine are for a brother, I know. I know the anguish that tortures you. I know the crazy questions...especially the what if's. I know the heartache. I can feel how it haunts you and never goes away. I know you know that time does not really make it better...you just learn to cope better. Nothing makes something like this better. We just know and understand it's part of life, though we may not particularly like that it had to be us. Life is painful. We know this....and I know now, we are never alone. There is someone that understands us. There is always someone who shares our pains, our sorrows, and our disappointments. I know this part of you, even though I've never met you....


Sabrina stood slowly, hesitant but filled with compassion. And compassion moved her. She walked silently over the the older woman with a flower in her hand. She placed the flower on the headstone, turned to the woman, and embraced her. Embraced her with all the understanding she had for this stranger. The woman clung to her and they wept together quietly. Mourn with those who mourn. Comfort those in need of comfort. Serve your fellow beings. The women stood in each other's embrace for a few seconds and then let go of each other. The younger nodded at the older, and the older smiled her appreciation and they parted. Life, while it can be ugly, is always beautiful when you can share and exchange compassion. She walked to her truck and glanced back at the woman as a jet took off over their heads.

God bless us all....