I went to graduation... I still had another year to go, what should have been my year to shine, Senior year... But Damo was a year older than me, and I went to see him graduate...
I was sad anyways... But certain things could make it better, certain things could make it worse... Karrie came and hugged me... Karrie was genuine. She said, "I'm so sorry. I've been praying for you." I just sank into her hug... Karrie was nothing like me, but she was REAL, and she made me feel better. Other people came up to me. Apologized, said words, but I knew the meaning was, "Wow, glad it's you and not me..." The apologies and empty words from people that didn't know me from a hole in the ground, or those that had tormented me, those apologies only made me feel worse.
My father had died, not me. I had to move on... But who was I kidding... A part of me had died as well. Until then, I was content to never grow up, but I knew that I had to. After he was gone, there just wasn't any child that could deal with that.
So watching him in the hospital, the child turned to stone. The child watched in horror, screaming and crying until the very last moment, the final breath. Then the child fell silent, no more than a statue. A testement to the innocence and grace that had once been a part of who I was, but no more.
As my brother Jason and I opened the window, following age old custom, another part of me was crying... It was a silent weeping, echoed in the storm brewing overhead. My father was dead, and despite all that I had learned, all the power I had acquired, I was powerless to stop it. All of my power was in vain.
There were things that the others would not understand, that my own family could not understand. Something demonic, something evil, that I would have to dance with. A darkness that could only be extinguished on a bridge late at night, with a sword in hand. I danced that dance. I took that risk. I got my revenge, but it was empty.
I remember watching Damo receive his diploma. I screamed and cheered with the rest of the people there, but a part of me was sad and frightened. My father would not be there when I graduated.
Nor would he be there for Homecoming, or my Senior prom. When I graduated from college, either. When I got married. I couldn't even bring my girlfriends home to meet him, so they could see where I learned the most important lessons of my life. It wasn't fair; My father being stolen from me by a demon taking the form of cancer. I had my revenge, but my father was still gone.
A year later, at my graduation, I was sad. Still, as I walked across the stage, I received my diploma. For whatever reason, I kissed it, and gestured it upward... As I returned to my seat, I could have sworn that I saw him out of the corner of my eye. I glanced over, and of course he wasn't there. Or at least, he wasn't standing there.
It was enough to make me cry. Not because he wasn't there, but because I believe that he was.
"If the people we love are stolen from us, the way to have them live on is to
never stop loving them. Buildings burn, people die... but real love is forever."