Thirty years later
I LAY THERE looking down at Matt’s tear stained face, finally having fallen asleep. We were lying on our sides facing each other. Matt had his head resting against my chest, his larger hand lay limply on my hip. I knew I would have bruises the next day where he had gripped me so hard there a short while before.
As he slept, I brushed the hair back from his face, his beautiful face. I saw the youthful, dynamic young man, hidden underneath the weathered skin from working out in the sun, hidden beneath the wrinkles that now lived in the corners of his eyes. As I stroked his sandy-brown locks that the sun had smiled upon, I saw the grey at his temples as well as the silver starting to fleck the rest of his tresses. Yes, he was still one of the most beautiful men I’d ever seen, and I still loved him. If it were possible, I may actually have loved him more than ever before.
I closed my eyes, trying to not feel the pain and heartache of the past two weeks. A pain I knew would never go away. Maybe over time it would become more bearable, but it would never completely go away. This I knew with every fiber of my being.
Two weeks ago, Carl died. While walking back from collecting eggs, he fell on the path from the chicken coop, halfway between the house and the barn. The medical examiner said that he was probably dead before he even hit the ground—the result of a massive heart attack.
I found Matt lying beside him on the ground. “No daddy, please. Daddy, please, please don’t leave me, please. I love you. You can’t go yet, it’s not time. Oh, daddy, please, please, please!” He was sobbing and rubbing the side of Carl’s face.
I stopped dead in my tracks. The pain coming from him… the sound like a wounded animal, tore at my heart. This couldn’t be happening. Carl was our rock, he couldn’t be gone. Slowly, I walked toward Matt and Carl. Falling to my knees on the other side of Carl from where Matt was, I leaned down and put my head against his chest. There had to be a heartbeat, I begged silently. I was looking for a heartbeat that I knew as well as my own, but there was none. Looking at Carl’s face, I knew he was gone. There was a peace about him that told me all I needed to know.
I nudged Matt. “Stay with him, I’m going to call an ambulance.” I ran to the house, barely holding it together. I called 9-1-1 and stayed on the phone with the operator until I heard the sirens.
Running back out to where Carl and Matt were on the ground, I motioned for the ambulance, letting them know where we were. Everything seemed to go in slow motion. They examined Carl, putting in an I.V. in his arm, even though I knew deep down that it was futile. Looking at their faces, I think they did too. They tried, or made a good play at it, allowing Matt and me some thread of hope. I knew better, as my own heart seemed to break a little piece at a time.
The next few hours were the worst of my life. Matt and I left the hospital, alone. Carl was dead. We never got to say goodbye. Matt and I were now on our own. I am sure that in the back of our minds we’d known this day would come, but not yet. Please, not yet. But it had.
I drove back home with Matt in obvious shock. During the entire trip back home, neither of us said a word. Walking into the house, we still had not spoken. I went and got us a couple of beers and pulled out the dusty bottle of tequila I had gotten a long time ago. I think we had only had one drink each out of it. If ever there was a time that I needed something stronger than beer, it was now. I poured each of us a shot, went over to where Matt was sitting and sat down next to him. Nudging him, I handed him the beer and the shot. He looked at me and nodded. We both took the shot and chased it with the beer.
We sat in total silence, not knowing what to say. I got up, went and got the bottle of tequila, and poured us another couple of shots. At some point, we were leaning on each other, drawing comfort from just touching. There was a comfortable silence surrounding us. I could hear the crickets and cicadas chirping their summer songs. The sun, just setting, cast a warm orange glow in the room.
“He left us without saying goodbye.” Matt finally spoke, his voice hoarse, barely above a whisper. The old clock on the wall said it was almost eight in the evening. Only then did I realize those were the first words he’d said since the ambulance had arrived at the house.
We sat there. Drinking. Talking only every once in a while. No words were really needed. What we needed was each other. We just sat next to each other, always touching in one way or another. It wasn’t long before the sun was coming up. The bottle of tequila lay empty, and there were beer bottles covering the coffee table as well as some on the floor. The odd thing was, I didn’t feel the least bit drunk, and I should have been wasted with all that we’d had to drink.
Poking Matt, I stood up and reached out for his hand. He took it and I helped pull him to his feet. I led him to the bedroom where I started to take his clothes off. He stood there like a zombie watching me. It was the first time I had stripped Matt without the intention of having sex with him. It's odd how little things like that pop into your head at times like that. Once Matt was naked, I got undressed as well. We got into bed and held each other.
Sleep was slow to come, but come it did. When I woke up it was one in the afternoon. Matt was still sleeping. As I got up, I felt the effects of the drinking I had done. I went into the bathroom and got the aspirin bottle, taking a few with a glass of water, and leaving it out. I figured Matt was going to need it as well.
I staggered into the kitchen where I started some coffee. It wasn’t long before I heard Matt moving about, and a low moan. A grin played with the corners of my mouth, knowing how Matt was feeling. It wasn’t long before Matt shuffled down the hall, making his way to the kitchen. I had a cup of coffee poured and waiting for him by the time he got to the breakfast bar.
“Thanks,” he mumbled, before taking a sip of the strong coffee. After a few sips of the strong brew, he finally looked at me.
“Welcome,” I replied.
We each stood there in the kitchen with our cups of java, still not talking.
While on our second cups, I asked, “What do we need to do?”
“What do you mean?” he asked me.
“I mean, do we need to call anyone or let any of your family know or anything?”
“I don’t know. I guess we need to look in the safe and see what he had planned. I remember a few years ago, he made us write down our final wishes and all. Then that attorney came out and took it and made it all legal and shit?” Matt said rather blankly.
“Oh yeah, I remember. I’d forgotten.” I suddenly recalled. “I guess the first thing we need to do is go and take care of the animals. Louise is probably ready to bust a gut, needing to be milked.”
“You take care of her and I’ll go get the rest taken care off. You seem to have a way with that old heifer.” Matt drained his coffee and headed back to the bedroom. “She hates my guts for some reason, the ol’ bitch.”
I followed him into the bedroom. “I think she just thinks your hands are too rough for her teets.”
Matt only grunted a response and he pulled his well-worn cowboy boots on.
We made our way out into the yard, heading off in different directions. Matt came back with a basket of eggs and I with a nearly full pail of milk, meeting up where we had parted. We both suddenly stopped, staring at the spot where Carl had fallen, leaving us behind.
Matt and I went back into the kitchen after dealing with the eggs and milk. We each took another cup of coffee. Matt looked up at me, and without having to say a word, we walked back into the office. He opened up the safe, shuffled through some papers and pulled out a manila, letter-sized envelope. Opening it, he took a deep breath and started to read aloud.
Carl’s wishes were simple, like the man he was. Yes, we were to notify any relatives of his passing, but inform them that there was not going to be a funeral service of any kind. If Matt and I wanted to have a memorial or wake of sorts, that was okay with him, but he was leaving that decision up to us. He wished to be cremated and his ashes either kept, if we wanted, or to be spread around the farm, our choice. It was all very simple.
Matt pulled out some other papers, one of which was the will. It was also simple and straightforward. Matt and I were the sole beneficiaries, everything split equally down the middle. There was also a letter addressed to both of us. Matt opened it and started reading:
Dear Matt and Carter,
If you’re reading this it means I’m already gone. I hope that my death was quick. The last thing I’d ever want is a lingering, painful death. It isn’t that I’m afraid of pain; I just don’t want the two of you to have to endure something like that. If it was fast then I’m grateful.
Matt, I want you to know that ever since you were born you were the one thing in my life that I loved unconditionally. I’m not a religious man by any stretch of the imagination, but there was not a day that went by that I didn’t thank the powers that be for you. Not only were you the best boy growing up, but you became one hell of a man, probably more man than I was. You had the courage and conviction to stand up for what you wanted, and I give thanks for your strength in that as well. Without you, I know I would have been a very lonely and sad man. I love you, son, more than life itself, and I hope that you will find a way to have joy, like I had, for the rest of your life.
Carter, you were the son that I happened to be blessed with later in my life. The joy and brightness that you brought into my life is stronger than any star, and I love you for that. There has never been a day gone by that you didn’t make me smile and laugh. The love you gave me was a gift that I always cherished. I hope you know that.
I never thought when I first met you, when Matt and I met you, how much more you would complete us. How much you gave us without even thinking about it. With every passing year, I wondered how I was so very lucky to have such fine men in my life, men who loved me and never asked for anything in return except my love.
To you both: I want you each to know that I loved you so very much, and if there is another life after this one, I hope with all my might that I get to have you with me. Thank you for all the joy and happiness that you’ve given me.
If I were to have one last wish, it would be that the two of you continue to love and support each other for the rest of your lives. To be happy and have as much joy in your lives as you’ve given me. Please, do this for me. Do not be sad for me. I have had a long and happy life, more than any man should deserve or expect. I have been truly blessed. Take care and love each other like you always have, and I will be eternally happy.
Love always,
Your Dad, Carl.
Matt and I followed his wishes by notifying what was left of their family in Nebraska. They sent condolences, but none had the time or were able to make the trip to Indiana, not that there was any reason for them to. Matt and I had a few people from town over for drinks, and to reflect on Carl’s life. It was a night of storytelling and remembering the man that Carl was. Nothing fancy—like him.
Two weeks after his death, we got his ashes. We walked the farm, spreading ashes as we went. We stopped at certain places, remembering events that had taken place over the past thirty-plus years. When that old bull charged Matt and knocked him over the fence and Carl laughed his ass off. We spread ashes there. There was the spot where I got flogged by a rooster, it clinging to my head as I ran around in circles screaming like a girl, or so Matt said. Carl couldn’t help because he was laughing so hard. We put ashes there. When Carl fell out of the hayloft because he was laughing so hard at the two of us for doing something stupid, as we normally did. We couldn’t even remember what it was we’d done. We scattered ashes there. Matt and I spent the entire day spreading ashes and remembering our lives here, our lives with Carl and each other.
Now, I lay there with Matt in my arms, thinking how fast those thirty-odd years had passed. It seemed like only yesterday that I was twenty-four; a young naïve journalist who grudgingly met the two men that I would spend the majority of my life with. I was now fifty-four and Matt fifty-eight, and he was still as beautiful to me now as he was then.
Yes, I was sad and I felt a great loss, but I had this wonderful man still here, who loved me, who needed me and I needed him.
I lay there, looking at this beautiful creature, inside and out, and thought, Yes, Carl, we will be together for as long as we still walk this earth. And when this life is over, I look forward to going home where I know the other greatest love of my life will be there waiting for me. I’ll be home with you once again, I promise.
The End