The Death of Me Read Online Free PDF Page B

I realized I’d probably have to drive straight to the cemetery. I reached for my purse that I had tossed into the passenger seat and pulled out the information I had gotten from the viewing, then set the location for Saint Raphael’s Cemetery into my GPS, before I took off.
    I drove aggressively all the way to the cemetery grounds. I cursed loudly at people that lingered at the green lights and drove around people I felt were driving too slow.
    Once I got to the wide iron gates, I slowed down and drove the recommended five mile per hour speed limit. After all, what the GPS said should have taken me twenty five minutes, only ended up taking fifteen due to speeding.
    The curves and bends in the cemetery lead me around in all directions. To the back, to the front, to either side, and had me to the point of such frustration that I was considering going back to the office and asking where to go, when I saw the only excavator on the property sitting in the far right back corner. I turned the truck around the bend and made my way over just in time for the funeral procession to start coming my way.
    Jesus Christ. This shouldn’t have been so difficult, I thought angrily.
    I waited inside until the hearse carrying my grandfather and the cars following stopped. I waited while the mourners got out of their cars and jumped out when I saw my parents. I made a beeline straight for my father.
    “I want to talk to you when this is all over,” I said to him quietly to which he nodded.
    We stopped and waited while the pallbearers retrieved Grandpa’s casket from the hearse and carried it to the burial spot. Mom started to cry again and I started to roll my eyes when I spotted my grandmother. She was using a cane and walking slowly toward the chairs that had been set up, a tissue to her nose.
    I left my father’s side and went over to her, putting an arm around her shoulders.
    “Hi Grandma,” I said softly.
    She stopped walking and looked up at me. A sad smile creased her worn lips as she put an arm around me to give me a frail hug.
    “It’s good to see you. I’m so glad you came. He would be happy to know you were here,” she said in a shaky voice.
    I nodded and blinked back tears as I kept an arm around her tiny shoulders, walking her to the chair that sat front row center.
    “Thank you, Zaydee,” she said shakily. I leaned down and kissed her on her cheek before going to the back row of the ceremony and crossed my hands in front of myself.
    I wasn’t going to sit with the family no matter how much they wanted me to. This was supposed to be about my grandfather being laid to rest and if I sat near them, it would only be a matter of time before I snapped.
    The priest walked to the front and stood next to the casket. He asked us all to bow our heads as he started to pray. I looked down at my hands and clasped them. I wasn’t much for prayer these days, but I could manage one or two in the memory of the greatest man I had ever known.
    Once he was done, he asked if anyone had anything they wanted to say; a special memory to share.
    I heard someone clear their throat before the familiar voice said, “I do.”
    I jerked my head up and saw the priest motioning the voice toward him. It was Garrett and he was dressed in a dark brown suit, white dress shirt, and black tie. His shiny black shoes crushed the grass as he walked with purpose to the front of everyone gathered.
    “Greta, with your permission, I think it’s time I talk about this,” he said softly to her. She nodded in agreement and I glanced around nervously.
    I had a sickening feeling in the pit of my stomach on what he wanted to talk about. But he wouldn’t do it at my grandfather’s funeral, would he? He had to have more common sense than that. As soon as he opened his mouth and started speaking, I realized I couldn’t have been more wrong.
    “Fourteen years ago, I destroyed a life,” he began with a heavy sigh. “I destroyed a life that was very near and dear