THE CEMETERY
It's over. The judge sentenced Dad today. He got life in prison without the possibility of parole, not only because he killed Mom but because he lied so much and tried to blame it on her. Grampy and Gran and Grandfather Eric were in court to hear the judge's decision, but Jeremy and I went to school.
So now it's like he's dead, too. Maybe I'll go see him sometime after I'm grown. Maybe after I get married and have kids I'll send him pictures or something. But maybe not. I mean, what am I supposed to tell my kids about why they don't have grandparents? I think I'll just tell them that they're dead and maybe after they're grown I'll tell them the truth. I mean, I might not even tell my husband, whoever he'll be.
Gregory called. Dad's trial was on TV in Albany and all about how Jeremy and I were the ones who made him confess. Gregory said he's staying with a friend and will be going to Chicago in a couple of weeks to live with his uncle. I asked him if he had stopped drinking, and he said he had but I'm not sure. He told me he was sorry things turned out how they did between us, that he really liked me and all, but he couldn't hold it together the way I seemed to. I told him about the web page. It's up and I don't know how, but kids are finding it! Bob gave me a brand-new computer! Gave it to me! Every day when I get home from school, I log on to the web page and there's always somebody new who's written something about his or her parent who died. Some of the stories are really sad, worse even than when Dad killed Mom. Today a kid wrote in from Kosovo and talked about how soldiers killed his mom and dad. His English wasn't that great, but what he was saying was still pretty hard to take. I wonder why dads kill moms but moms don't kill dads. Or maybe moms do it, too. Just in a different way.
It is warm. The last time I was here was the day of the funeral. The sun was shining then, too. I've thought a lot about coming but I was afraid. I don't know why. I just was. Now that Dad's been sentenced and I know what's going to happen to him, it's like I can breathe. I feel like I've been holding my breath ever since it happened. Holding my breath and feeling guilty for not telling Mom about Dad and Diane, feeling like she would be alive now if I had told.
The judge gave Mom's journal back to Jeremy and I started reading it, but I couldn't finish it and gave it back to him. I didn't know she was in so much pain. I didn't know how hard I was making things for her. Karen read it and told me I couldn't have known, that I'm only a kid. But I still feel like I should have told her about Dad and Diane. Gran said Dad would have just killed her sooner.
I walk slowly up the hill. There's a headstone on Mom's grave. I guess Gran and Grampy had it put there. All it has on it are her name and when she was born and when she died. I cut some forsythia from the bush in our yard on my way over here, and I lay them at the base of the headstone.
"Hi, Mom. It's over. I'm sorry I haven't been to see you, but I just couldn't come until now. I'm doing okay. I got straight As every quarter in school. Can you believe it? And I'm learning ah about computers and doing some stuff with computer graphics. I wish you could see it. But what's so weird is that if you were still alive, I probably wouldn't have gotten straight As or be doing anything with computers. I'm sorry. I'm really sorry I wasn't a better daughter, but it's not too late. I'm going to be the best daughter I can and make you proud of me. I love you, Mom."
I didn't know I was going to say any of that, and I'm surprised at what came out. But it's true. Just because she's dead it doesn't mean I stopped loving her or that she stopped loving me. It's just her body that left. The love didn't.
I reach in the pockets of my jeans and take out the rings I had in my navel and nipple. They've been sitting on the top of my dresser since I took them out right before I went to the funeral home that night. I dig a little hole in the dirt on Mom's grave and drop them in. Then I cover it up and pat it down so nobody will notice anything.