Tuesday, March 1, 2011
I stopped by Starbucks the other day to pick up a latte for me and one for my parents. There were only two cup holders in the POS rent car so I got them a venti to share.
When I got there I began the walk up the drive. Memories came flooding back.
I remembered seeing my Dad crying under the awning where a hearse was parked.
I remembered them putting my mom’s coffin in the hearse and driving to the grave site.
I remembered flashes of people and how beautiful the weather was.
I remembered Dad and I placed roses on Mom’s coffin before it was lowered into the ground.
I remembered Dad being devastated. I'd never seen my dad cry. I watched him cry enough that day to last for years.
I remembered being there a year later watching as my brother roared up on my Dad's motorcycle with America's and Texas' flags flying.
I remember my father was taken out of the same hearse and carried to his resting place beside my mother.
I stood there looking at the headstone, tears streaming down my cheeks, while I drank my coffee and talked to them.
Then I poured their latte on the double grave site, cried some more, talked some more and left them once again, alone, together, forever.