Date: Tue, 16 Mar 2010 15:56:23 EDT From: Bwstories8@aol.com Subject: Castaway Hotel: Grand Reopening - Book 4, chapters 43 - 44 Castaway Hotel -- Grand Reopening -- Book 4 by BW Copyright 2009 by billwstories Chapter 43 -- Summer Comes Crashing to an End. **Author's Note:** Please read the disclaimer in Chapter 00 before you read this. Sunday morning we all attended church together and then Jake drove back to our house, so we could spend a little more time together and Shannon could mess around with the boys. Shortly after we arrived, the phone rang. It was Brent checking in again. I talked to him for a short time, learning about what he'd been up to and hearing the joy in his voice, before I handed the receiver off to Kevin, who was standing next to me and chomping at the bit to take over. When I said good-bye to Brent, I reminded him to call and let me know when they were starting back, so we would be home when he arrived. He said he would, so I handed Kevin the phone, or should I say he nearly ripped it from my grip. It wasn't a rude or nasty behavior, it was just that Kevin was eager to speak to his lover and was all smiles as he lifted the receiver to his ear. As soon as he began speaking, he was grilling Brent on the details of what he'd been doing and when he'd be returning. After giving the boys sufficient time to chat, I told Kevin it was time to end the call, since Jimmy's father was paying for it again. Very reluctantly, Kevin said good-bye, but dragged it out for as long as he dared, and then hung up. There was still a smile on his lips as he turned to walk away, although I also notice moisture in both of his eyes. He went up the stairs and directly to his room, without saying a word to any of the rest of us. That afternoon Dion and Trey had a heart-to-heart talk, at Dion's request. Dion told Trey about everything he had done with his two girlfriends, and also informed Trey that he wasn't done exploring what it was like with the opposite sex. He also admitted that while he still wanted to continue messing around with girls some more, he felt he would probably end up with Trey, rather than some female. He said that even though they were nice and he'd enjoyed being with them, he thought he and Trey had more in common, Trey understood his needs better and the sex was much more enjoyable. Dion confirmed he'd enjoyed what he had done with the girls, but they just didn't understand how to please him as well as Trey did and he missed playing around with Trey's penis too. Dion told Trey, 'Tits are nice, but a cock is so much better and there's so much more you can do with it, at least in my opinion'. It looked as though Trey had weathered the storm and won the battle, so he moved around the house with a renewed bounce in his step and more confidence in his soul. Collectively, the boys had agreed to fill their final week of vacation with as many activities as they could possibly squeeze in. While I was working at school, my sons were out playing ball, swimming or taking short trips -- in the car, on their bikes or walking. Whenever they needed a break from these more strenuous activities, they generally spent their time lying in the sun and attempting to enhance their summer tans, either alone or with a partner. Luckily for me, they weren't dependent on me to entertain them. Wednesday morning Brent called again, to let me know they would be leaving later that afternoon. I wasn't home at the time, so Cole ended up taking the message for me. Then Cole called me at the school around lunchtime, to let me know that Brent had called and informed me Brent had told him they should be home some time tomorrow, depending on traffic and the weather. I was glad to get the news and thanked Cole for calling to give me the message. Then I went back to completing my duties for the day, with a renewed sense of hope. Kevin was a bundle of nerves that night, pacing around like an expectant father, but he was just anxious to see his lover again. I got a kick out of watching him and it showed me how deeply he had connected with Brent. He was like the energizer bunny moving from one room to another, without standing in one place for more than a few seconds. Thursday morning, after a restless night's slumber, Kevin decided to clean up his room and make it more presentable for Brent's return. I think he was planning a special 'welcome home' present for Brent when he arrived, so I concluded he was hoping by having the room looking nice it would just enhance his prospects. Graham was still looking pensive, although he hadn't made any more comments about Brent or his visions since Brent had called the previous Wednesday. We only had to make it though the day and Brent would be back, so I was actually starting to breathe normally again. The boys and I were just sitting down to dinner when the doorbell rang, so I jumped up to answer it and told the boys to keep eating. It shouldn't have come as a surprise to me that none of them did what they were told and either turned in their seats or followed me to the door, to see if it was Brent returning. We all suspected Jimmy's parents were just being polite and ringing the bell to give us a warning before they came lugging Brent's things inside. Therefore, I opened the door ready to welcome them home, but nearly crumpled to the floor when I saw who was standing there instead. It was a state trooper and he definitely wasn't smiling. As I struggled to regain my composure, he began to speak. "Mr. Currie?" I nodded my head in response. "Do you have a son named Brent?" With that question, I felt my stomach hit the floor, the blood drain from my body and my heart leap into my throat, making it nearly impossible for me to speak. I merely nodded again, fearing what was about to follow. "I'm afraid I have to inform you there's been an accident," he announced, without showing any outward signs of emotion. Hearing my worse fears spoken aloud, I had to brace myself against the doorframe, just to keep from falling over. I choked back the lump in my throat and forced myself to speak, although my mouth was so dry I could barely ask the question that was foremost on my mind. After fighting many seconds to get the words out, I finally managed to utter something distinguishable. "Is... is he... okay?" I gasped out. My voice sounded raspy, even to me, almost as if I'd been in the desert for days and dying of thirst. The trooper gave me a very sad look, shook his head and spoke again. "Mr. Currie, I'm afraid he's gone. He was killed in a traffic accident." Hearing that, I totally lost it and nearly passed out from the shock. However, seeing my reaction, the boys raced up behind me and were now at my side trying to support me and keep me from dropping to the floor. Even though my mind was swirling, I could hear them weeping and choking back their own emotions, while trying to assist me. The trooper kept asking if I was all right or if I needed him to call an ambulance, but I couldn't respond, as my mind was racing over the news and thinking about Graham's warnings. Finally, I managed to force out another question. "How... how did it... happen?" I stammered. "From what I was told," the trooper began, "the family your son was with was driving through Virginia when a tire on their vehicle blew out. It caused the driver to lose control of the Bronco, which then left the highway and rolled over several times. It is my understanding your son wasn't wearing his seatbelt at the time of the accident and was ejected from the vehicle." "And that's what... killed him?" I gasped. "No, that was only part of what happened to him," the officer announced, seemingly unmoved by the gravity of his news. "As it was explained to me, after your son was thrown clear of the vehicle, it rolled over him and crushed his body." With that last bit of news, my legs gave out from under me and I plunged toward the cold tiles. The trooper lurched forward in an effort to catch me, as did some of my sons, and their efforts most likely prevented me from injuring myself seriously in the process. Once they had a firm grip on various parts of my body, they eased me downward, until I was seated on the floor. Once I was in that position, the boys dragged me backward about a foot, so I could lean back against the wall for support. While all of this had been going on, someone went into the kitchen and brought me back a glass of water, while another group of boys were trying to console Kevin. Although it hadn't yet dawned on me, this was the third boyfriend Kevin had lost in the past year or so, but this one was gone forever. After I regained my wits, I looked up at the trooper and asked my next question. "What about the others?" I almost whispered. "Were any of them harmed?" Again, he merely nodded his head, but then began to elaborate. "I was told the other family did sustain injures and were taken to the hospital, but they are all expected to survive." Although this was good news, it made me wonder why Brent was the only one who didn't make it. I knew this was the result of an accident and it would have been impossible for anyone to have prevented it, but why just Brent. All of these thoughts were still going through my mind when the trooper asked me his next question. "Mr. Currie, I know this is probably not a good time for this, if there is such a thing," he began, almost apologetically, "but I need to know where you want the body taken. Do you know what funeral home you will be using?" I hadn't thought about this before he asked, but I did manage to tell him we had used the funeral home in town when my wife died. I then told him I'd contact them myself, a little later, after I'd had time to deal with the shock. Before he left, he did offer his condolences and told me he'd pass along my wishes to the appropriate parties, before leaving us to pick up the shattered pieces of our lives. After seeing the door close behind him, I suddenly thought about Kevin and looked around the area to find him. I knew he would need me to be strong for him, but more than that, he would need my love and support through this very difficult time. When I eventually located him, it was apparent he was much more of a basket case than I had been and I had no doubt it would take him a very long time to get over his sense of loss. After trying to comfort him for a few minutes, I concluded he must be in shock. Knowing he would need medical attention to bring him out of this state, I asked Danny to drive Kevin and myself to the hospital emergency room, so I could have him looked at. Danny quickly agreed, and Brandon announced he would go with us, after he and Danny helped me get Kevin in the car. After an ungodly long wait, Kevin was finally seen by the emergency room physician, who prescribed some drugs for him, which he would be required to take for a few days. Kevin began to mellow out once the medications started to take effect, so we hurriedly made our way back to the house. Once we arrived and got Kevin inside, I asked Dustin and Nick to take him to my room and stay with him for a while, since I didn't want to leave him alone. They were both more than willing to do that for me, and I was glad that Kevin's two former lovers were going to be there for him. All of us were sad and affected by the news, but Kevin had been much closer to Brent than the rest of us, so he also suffered more deeply from his loss. After checking on all of the other boys, to see how they were doing, I went to the living room and shut the door, since I needed to deal with this alone and in my own way. I flopped down on the sofa and started going over everything in my mind, silently blaming myself for having let this happen. Why hadn't I heeded Graham's warnings? Why had I been so stubborn and foolish? I know Brent had only been with us for a few months, but I loved him just as much as the others and I hurt more profoundly knowing I might have been able to prevent this tragedy from occurring. This just wasn't right. Parents aren't supposed to bury their children! It's supposed to happen the other way around. Why did God have to take Brent from us? What sense could this possibly make? If only I hadn't picked him up that night and brought him to our home or if I'd just taken stock in Graham's visions, maybe Brent would still be alive. I don't know how parents live through the loss of a child, because this was nearly destroying me. I often wondered how I would deal with it, if I were to lose a child or grandchild, and now I knew... not very well. Although I just wanted to remain there and wallow in self-pity and remorse, I knew I didn't have that luxury. I would have to pull myself together and be strong for the boys, especially Kevin. I finally got up and made my way to the phone, in order to call my older children and let them know what had happened. Naturally, each of them was shocked and saddened by this news and asked what they could do to help out. All of them confirmed they would start making arrangements to come to our place just as soon as we hung up, while assuring me they'd be there for the calling hours and the funeral. I thanked them for their support, told them I'd call them back later with the specifics and that's how I ended each call. After all of the family had been notified, including the extended family, I called the funeral home, to let them know what to expect. After telling me how sorry he was about my loss, the funeral home director asked me if I could bring some of Brent's clothes and a recent picture of him to them, sometime in the next few hours. I told them I would and then we began discussing what calling hours I'd like to have and which church, pastor and cemetery we were going to use. I hadn't thought of having to do anything like this again so soon, but I was familiar with the process. Previously, I'd had the primary responsibility for the preparations for both my wife and mother's funerals, so I did have these previous experiences to draw upon. Quietly, I slipped out of the living room and began walking around the house. First, I checked on the rest of the boys, and then I went to Brent's room to collect the things that would be needed. I took clean underwear from his dresser, removed his church clothes from the closet (slacks, dress-shirt, tie and sport coat), and then went digging for the most recent photo I had of him. I then took everything downstairs, got into the car and drove to the funeral parlor. The director greeted me at the door and once again offered his sympathy, and then I handed him the things I had brought with me. He set those items aside and we went into his office to complete the arrangements. I gave him the information he would need for the obituary, told him to put down in lieu of flowers, contributions could be made to the Castaway Charity Fund and we'd have calling hours Saturday, with the funeral being held after church on Sunday afternoon. He even phoned my pastor for me, to let me iron out the details of the service with him, before leading me down to their basement showroom, to select a coffin. As I reached the foot of the stairs and began to see the displays of caskets, suddenly the reality of the situation struck me even harder. I froze momentarily, as I pondered the unpleasant thought that I'd soon be selecting the coffin that I'd be putting Brent's body in for eternity. Although I'm a religious person and believe in a hereafter, it's still difficult to accept the fact that I was going to be saying good-bye to my young teenage son for the final time. As I glanced at all of the various types of caskets offered, made of either wood or metal, I unfortunately saw something else -- something that affected me even worse. There, under a table at the far end of the coffin room, was a large, cardboard box with a price tag on it. Who in their right mind would put a loved one's remains in a cardboard box? I knew some people didn't have much money, but a simple pine box couldn't cost much more and would seem immensely more appropriate. I mentioned this to the director and commented on how disgusting the thought was of putting a loved ones remains in something like that, so he quickly advised me those were generally only used for bodies that were going to be cremated. He said he would generally put the bodies in a regular coffin for display, and then transfer it over before the cremation took place. That made me feel a little better, but I still was unsettled by it and once again concluded a simple pine box would work just as well. However, now that I was ready to continue with the business at hand, I began studying the assortment of containers before me. After making my selection, I also had to decide a suitable vault, into which the casket would be placed to help protect it even more. I told the funeral home director to call me just as soon as Brent's body arrived and was ready for viewing, since I wanted to come back and check out how he looked for myself, before I allowed the rest of my family to see him. He agreed and we exchanged farewells, before I drove over to the cemetery, to arrange for a plot. The gentleman who was in charge there was also very polite and helpful. He showed me a map of available locations and then we took a quick drive around the area, so he could point the various spots out to me. He also took me to a new section, which they had just opened up on the top of a small hill, and told me that only one or two gravesites had already been purchased there. When we got back to the office, I asked him how many plots were located in the new section and he told me. After checking to see if I could swap the few plots I already owned, including where my wife was buried, I informed him that I wanted to purchase enough plots in the new sections, so all of my children and grandchildren who wished to be buried there in the future could be. He was very pleased by the news, seeing he'd be getting a sizable commission from the sale, and we filled out the paperwork, before we both signed. Once the legal issues of the sale were settled, I decided on which of the plots would be used for Brent and arranged for my wife's body to be transferred from its current location and placed right beside where Brent's casket would be buried. The man said he'd have everything ready in time for the service, so we shook hands and I left, driving slowly back home. Castaway Hotel -- Grand Reopening -- Book 4 by BW Copyright 2009 by billwstories Chapter 44 -- Our Worst Fears. When I got to the house, some of the boys rushed out to greet me and then nervously quizzed me about where I had been and what I'd been doing. That's when it suddenly dawned on me that I had forgotten to tell anyone what I was up to before I left, as I normally would have. It appeared they had all been quite concerned about me, especially after my initial reaction after first hearing the news, so this made me feel very guilty. After assuring them I was fine and just taking care of a few of the arrangements, they seemed to understand that I had wanted... no, needed, to do that alone, so nothing more was said about it. They just seemed relieved I was back, so we all slowly filtered into the house. Kevin wasn't among the group that came out to greet me, so I decided to go to my bedroom and talk to him. I wanted to see if there was anything I could do to help or comfort him. Dustin and Nick were still with him when I arrived, lying on either side and pressed tightly against him. When they looked up, I signaled them I wanted to speak with Kevin alone and they quickly nodded their understanding and began to stir. As they were heading out the door, I sat on the bed beside Kevin and stroked his back. After a few seconds of this, he rolled over and looked at me through his puffy, red eyes and tear- streaked face. He then buried his face in my chest and started sobbing so hard his body was shaking. "Why, Dad? Why did it have to happen to him?" he wanted to know. I searched my mind for the right words to soothe his pain and to find a reason that might give a shred of justification for this, but I wasn't sure I knew of any. Finally, I felt I had to say something, so I began to speak. "Kevin, I don't know why this happened or for what reason," I whispered as comfortingly as I knew how, "but we can't always understand God's plans for us." Nearly as soon as the words were out of my mouth, Kevin's body stiffened and he pulled away from me, while looking into my face. I could see his sorrow had turned into something else, something colder. "This was a plan? This was God's doing?" he screamed, and I could see the anger consuming him. "Kevin, calm down," I urged. "I didn't mean it like that. I just meant there are some things for which we'll probably never know the answers, and this would be one of them. I mean, how could we ever justify the death of a child? It's hard enough to cope with the death of older people, but a child -- how do you understand something like that? I'm sorry, Kevin. I feel badly that I'm not very helpful with this, but I just don't know what else to tell you." As soon as I finished speaking, Kevin's head dropped back on my chest and he began sobbing heavily again. Feeling his body heaving and shaking against my own and knowing the unbearable pain he was feeling, almost caused me to break down as well. I managed to retain my composure, but just barely, as I tried to comfort him and help him calm down. I also realized it was probably best for him to release his grief and anger in this manner, rather than keeping it pent up inside of him. Finally, he began to regain control over his emotions and looked up at me, and my heart nearly split in two seeing the pitiful expression fixed upon his face. "Why, Dad?" he gasped out again, in between his lingering sobs. "Why did they have to take Brent from me? Was it because he loved me? It seems all of these bad things keep happening to me, so is that why this happened to Brent?" Needless to say, I was quite startled by Kevin's comment and confused about how I was going to respond. I knew I had to convince him this wasn't the case, but I couldn't dismiss the idea too soon and have him think I merely did it as a knee-jerk reaction. I had to convince him he wasn't the cause. "Kevin, bad things happen to all of us," I began, "and it's true that some people seem to have more bad things happen to them than others, but it isn't because they're bad people or that their misfortune rubs off on those around them. Brent's loving you didn't cause this, but it did give him something he would never have known without you." "Well, how else would you explain it?" he challenged. "Nothing good ever lasts very long for me. First my dad threw Dustin out, just because he caught us fooling around, and then he beats me up. Then I get that lump on my testicle and it turns out to be cancer and I have to have it removed. Then Dustin leaves me for some girl and then I get together with Nick, only to have him tell me later that he can't be happy with just one guy. After hurting about all of those things, I finally find someone I'm happy with and I am sure positive loves me as much as I love him, but now he's gone too. Why, Dad, why do all these things keep happening to me?" Not having an answer for him, I just held Kevin tightly in my arms and let him cry himself out a bit, before I attempted to say anything more. Once he calmed down some, I attempted to convince him this wasn't his fault. "Kevin, I have no better answer for that than I did about why Brent had to die," I explained. "All I can tell you is that bad things do happen to good people, and it seems as if good people die young too. I know this doesn't help and you might not understand or believe me now, but you will get through this and the pain you're feeling now will lessen over time. I don't know what else to tell you, except that your brothers and I will be here for you and we'll do everything in our power to help you get through this. Someday you'll find someone new, someone who loves you the same way that Brent did, and you'll be happy again. Just be thankful that you had him for as long as you did, even if it was for just a short time, but above all else, you must always cherish and never forget those moments you shared together." Kevin looked up at me again and slowly opened his mouth to respond. "I will, Dad. I really will," he choked out, as his voice cracked with emotion, but as soon as he finished saying it, he buried his head back into my chest and began sobbing again. I wrapped my arms around him and held him tightly against my chest, to let him know I was there for him, while also giving him the opportunity to cleanse himself of his sadness. I let him cry until I discovered he had cried himself to sleep, and then I maneuvered his body onto the bed, making sure he was comfortable. Now that he seemed unaware of my presence any longer, I went to find Dustin and Nick, so I could ask them to watch over him once more. Both were happy to do that for me, particularly since they'd had a chance to eat and freshen up while I had been in with Kevin, and eagerly took off for my bedroom. As I made my way toward the living room, I saw Graham standing against the wall and could see he hadn't been coping to well with what happened either. I could tell he, too, had been crying and still wore a very sad expression upon his face. As I approached him to see if I could help in any way, he asked me a question. "Why didn't you believe me?" he whined, which caused me to pull up short and not move another inch. I wondered what I was going to tell him, as I searched for the right words to respond to his query. However, before I had time to answer, he continued. "If you had believed me and kept him home, Brent wouldn't be dead now." This pronouncement bothered me even more and made me feel obliged to explain. "Graham, we don't know that for sure," I reasoned. "If he had stayed here, maybe something else would have happened and he would have just missed out on the opportunity of going to the beach, without it altering his future. You weren't entirely correct, because you also said something was going to happen to me too, but it hasn't. Maybe this was just something we couldn't stop from happening, no matter how we responded to the warnings." I reached out and grasped him by the shoulders, pulling him firmly against me, and stroked his head with my right hand. "Graham, I wish I could have prevented this, because I miss him too," I confessed. "You don't know how badly I hurt because of what happened and how much I miss having him here. I loved him, Graham, just like I love the rest of you, but I might have only made him miserable if I'd forced him to miss out on the trip and then something else could have happened to him anyway. We have no way of knowing what might have been and we will probably live with these doubts for many years to come, but I can be sure of one thing. Someday we'll see him again in heaven, but until then we'll just have to cling to the wonderful memories we have of him." We both stood there in the living room with tears streaming down our faces and clinging to each other as if there were no one else in the world at that very moment. Eventually, we both cried ourselves out and I took Graham to his room, tucked him in and then kissed him good night. When I went back downstairs, I told Cole a little about what had happened with Graham and sent him upstairs to stay with his brother. He didn't hesitate and raced from the room, knowing his brother was more important now than anything else he might find to do. After I checked on all the other boys, I went to my room to be with Kevin and wrestle with my own demons. Maybe Graham was right. Maybe I should have kept Brent home after Graham warned me about what he'd seen. How was I to know? I try to do what's best for the boys, but sometimes I make mistakes too -- it's just that I've never made a decision that proved to be this costly before. After Nick and Dustin left, I lay on the bed next to Kevin and missed Brent more and more with every passing minute. I kept thinking about his adorable smile, pleasant nature and helpful demeanor, as well as all of the bad things he had endured in his brief life. It was then that I struggled with the idea I'd pulled him away from that mess, just to have him end up like this. Maybe it WAS my fault. Maybe my ego had grown so large that I had convinced, or is that deluded, myself that I was the answer to everything wrong in their lives. Maybe I was, in fact, doing as much harm as I was helping them. Was I giving them false hopes and leading them down a path where they would never find happiness? Was this boy's crushed body lying in the funeral parlor because of my arrogance and the hasty decision I had made? How could I go on until I was able to find the answers to these questions for myself? Eventually, I drifted off to asleep, but only because I was totally exhausted -- completely mentally and emotionally drained. It was not a restful or relaxing sleep, however. During the course of the evening, I relived nearly every moment Brent had been with us, witnessed the accident for myself and saw his body tossed around and then crushed, before wrestling with every question I had asked earlier -- questions about whether I was responsible or if I had been the catalyst that had caused this to happen. I came up with no more answers in my dreams than I had while I was awake, but awoke the next morning nearly as tired and drained as when I went to bed. During the course of the day, many people stopped by to offer their condolences or drop off food for our guests and us. Jake and Shannon were among the first to arrive, and Jake dealt with all the non-family visitors, which left me time to see those closest to me. The Spencers showed up about mid-morning, looking old for the first time since I'd known them. A short time later, Mary came by and she told me both Steve and Sally would be arriving just as soon as they could get away from work and by late afternoon they had also joined us. It was early evening before my older children began to arrive, and they were just as distraught as if Brent had been part of this family all of his life. Although he had only been with us a short time, he had certainly made a rather large and long-lasting impression, which was obvious in the way each of them shared their memories of him. As we helped each other work through our grief, questions arose about the schedule of activities for the next couple of days. I explained everything as I currently understood it and promised to let them know if there were going to be any changes. While going over all of this with them, the phone rang, and I was called to take it. It was the director of the funeral parlor, informing me I could come down to view the body, if I wished. I told him I'd be there shortly and was immediately questioned about the call, once I hung up. Although everyone wanted to go with me, I told them that just Kevin and I would be going now, so Kevin could deal with this in private, but I'd arrange it so that we could all go down later. No one challenged my decision, although I think my older children began to wonder why I was allowing Kevin to join me and no one else. While he ran up to his room to change, I overheard some of the other boys tell their older siblings that it was because Kevin and Brent had been roommates and were very close, so this was affecting him the most. My older children seemed to accept that line of reasoning, so when Kevin was ready, we quietly slipped out of the house and got into the car. When we arrived at the funeral home, I asked Kevin to wait in the car until I had a chance to make sure everything was the way I wanted it. He wasn't happy with my suggestion and only agreed to it after I promised him I'd come back to get him shortly. The director greeted me at the door, led me into the room where Brent's body was laid out, and I went over to look at his beautiful face, lying cold and lifeless before me. Although it wasn't extremely noticeable, I could still see where they had used make-up to cover some of his bruises, and I could see where someone had also used some artificial means to give his face its normal form. I took my comb out of my pocket and made minor adjustments to the way someone had done his hair, so it was closer to the way he generally wore it. As soon as I finished, I straightened his tie, which I thought looked slightly crooked, and adjusted a button on his jacket, so things were as perfect as I could make them. Then I leaned down and kissed him on the forehead, squeezed his arm, told him I was sorry and promised I'd never forget him. After also telling him I'd see him again someday, I wiped my eyes and went back outside, signaling Kevin that he could come in and join me. As he approached me, I asked Kevin if he was certain he was ready to do this, and he assured me he was as ready as he'd ever be to do this, so I walked in beside him. As we made our way toward the casket, after I asked the director if he would be kind enough to make sure we weren't interrupted, I could see Kevin was a little hesitant and trembling slightly. The minute we were close enough for Kevin to see Brent's body, he began to weep, but continued onward. Once we were right beside the casket, Kevin bent forward and placed his head on Brent's chest, while his body shook, due to his sobbing. He stayed in that position for more than a minute, with his tears slowly cascading down his cheeks and soaking into the garments that Brent would be buried in. After standing up again, he took a few minutes to silently wrestle control of his overwhelming grief, and then leaned forward once more, but this time to kiss Brent on the lips and whisper 'I love you' to him. After watching this scene play out, tears were streaming down my face, like a river after the dam had burst. However, I still did my best to be there for Kevin and help him get through this very difficult farewell. As I watched to see how he was doing, Kevin reached into his pocket and withdrew a picture of the two of them together on Valentine's Day. After kissing this photo of Brent, Kevin reached out and placed it against the inner lining of the coffin's lid, so everyone would see it there when they came up to view the body. Kevin also informed me that he wanted the picture to stay in the coffin, even when Brent was buried, so that way they would be together forever. I immediately assured him I would make sure it remained in with Brent when the coffin was sealed, and he nodded his head in acknowledgement and thanked me. When Kevin finished saying his private good-bye to his lover, I took him to the office, because I needed to discuss something else with the director. I wanted to see if we could arrange for an additional viewing time for later this evening, so the rest of the family could come down and have some private time to say their farewells to Brent as well. He was very accommodating and quickly granted my request, so now all I had to do was to inform everyone else about this opportunity. Once we finished at the funeral parlor, I didn't want to rush right home. I thought Kevin needed some additional time to work through things, without his brothers or others interfering, so I drove over to the florist to order the flowers for the viewing. When I pulled in their parking lot, I told Kevin he could remain in the vehicle or go inside with me, and he quickly chose to join me, because he wanted to help select the various floral bouquets. Between us, we ordered a large arrangement that would lie over the bottom half of the casket and would say 'brother' on it, a cross made up of red roses that would be placed beside the picture in the lid and have 'son' written across it, and a small floral pillow that would go in beside Brent that would read 'uncle'. Kevin was satisfied with those selections and the florist said he would have them there in time for Saturday's viewing, so we went back out to the car and drove home. Everyone was there when we arrived, so I hurriedly told each of them about the special calling hour I had arranged for the family. They were pleased to be given this time alone to cope with their loss without others being there, but there were many other things to be taken care of in the meantime. First, we began taking some of the items that had been dropped off earlier and placed them on the dining room table, so we could grab a bite to eat before we went to the funeral home. Although none of us felt hungry, we knew we had to eat something to keep up our strength. Most of us just nibbled at the food on our plates, but we were very appreciative for what our friends had prepared for us, so we didn't have to fix things for ourselves. After cleaning up and changing, we all squeezed into the various vehicles and drove down to the funeral home. Everyone was extremely emotional and shedding a great deal of tears even before we went inside, and seeing how each of them was reacting made me glad that Kevin and I had come here earlier and had some private time to say our good- byes. Since we'd already had a chance to see him and come to terms with what awaited us, we tried to help the others deal with their grief, before they went up to say their own farewells. The next two hardest hit by this experience were my grandsons, who had been relentless in teasing their parents to be allowed to come see their Uncle Brent. My older children had come to discuss this idea with me first, and although Jordan and Nicky had just turned seven and six respectively, a few months before this, I felt they might be ready to accept the harsh realities of life. Otherwise, we were going to have to deal with this continually over the months ahead, especially when we were all together again. I also thought this private family time would be the best time to do it, so they could cope and have us there to help them, without having our attention split with various visitors who were sure to come. I had offered to walk the boys up to the casket and be there with them when they went to see Brent's body, as well as answer the numerous questions that would follow. I certainly wasn't disappointed, as their inquiries began almost as soon as we stepped up beside the coffin. "Papa, why did Uncle Brent die?" Jordan asked me, as he was troubled that someone so young could die. "He was in an accident," I explained. "The car he was riding in went off the road, and he was hurt really badly. Sometimes that can happen, even to young people." "But he looks like he's sleeping," Nicky observed, while pointing toward Brent's body. "I know he does," I agreed, "and in a way he is. You know when we go to church and talk about heaven and that someday we'll all live there with God?" He nodded his head that he did. "Well, when that time comes, we'll meet your Uncle Brent there too, so it will be kind of like he was sleeping and woke up to be with us again, but this sleep will last for a very long time." "Does that mean we're going to die too?" Jordan asked, looking very concerned. "Someday we will all die," I agreed, "but hopefully that won't happen until each of us is very old, so it's not something you have to worry about right away." Jordan and Nicky both appeared quite relieved when I'd finished my answer, so I walked them back to their parents, so I could spend time consoling the rest of my boys. Once everyone had had a few moments alone at the casket, Kevin and I tried to explain about the flowers we had purchased. We told them what each arrangement would look like and where it would be placed, and each of the others thought the selections were very appropriate and quite suitable. We stayed at the funeral home for about an hour, before deciding it was enough for one day. Once we returned home, it took me a while to get the boys calmed down, especially after seeing Brent like that, plus we also had to move my sons around, so my other children would also be comfortable while staying with us. Kevin wanted to sleep with me tonight, so that opened up his room for someone, and some of the other boys quickly gave up their rooms too and bunked in with a brother or two. Most of my sons did this because they didn't want to be alone this evening, but only they knew that and my older children just thought the boys were being considerate of them. By the time we finally went to bed, we were still dealing with many unresolved issues, so I concluded it was going to be another long night, this time for all of us. I ended up cuddled against Kevin for much of the night, and we stayed like that, even after he was able to fall asleep. He did occasionally wake up crying or screaming out loud, and no matter what type of vision had caused it, he would be shaking and in need of immediate comfort. I had a feeling this wasn't going to end anytime soon and assumed I'd be dealing with his emotional healing for many nights to come. Therefore, I spent much of the evening catching my rest in a series of 15-20 minute naps, but it was the best I could manage and it would have to do for now. E-mail responses to the stories, story suggestions, or other 'constructive' comments or advice may be sent to: bwstories8@aol.com - but please put the story title in the subject line, so it doesn't get deleted as junk mail.