Puerto Vallarta, Not So Nice After All

I was almost there, almost at work. I thought I would be fine, start the day good. On the corner, why couldn’t I have been further from these men?

“Yeah, Puerto Vallarta Mexico."

“Oh nice…”

In my mind I kept playing the same old broken record, “don’t cry, be strong, be strong, be strong!”

Was he trying to tell me that he’s with me, or was it just another painful reminder? I thought on the train before this painful moment happened, that it’s Tuesday, three more days till Saturday. I was actually happy. I wasn’t even going to let all those stupid strangers on the train bother me with their dirty looks. I still don’t get it. The need to give me the dirty looks, but I wasn’t going to let it bother me this morning. It wasn’t going to ruin my day, something else was in the wood works that was going to do it and I didn’t even know it.

I thought if I can get through Monday without thinking about Sunday, I might just be ok, but Sunday wasn’t ok. As I kept pounding my head with my fists sobering in my car, I couldn’t stop asking him to “help me, please help me, please help me be strong, I’ll be ok please help me be ok. Why am I like this? Why? I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, please…”

I couldn’t catch my breath; I took the drenched tissue to my eyes and tried to wipe the pain away. I looked down to my jeans and noticed I got mud on them from planting the flowers I put to his grave. It had a huge yellow ribbon with Beloved Brother stapled to it. It was freezing and I shivered as I dug the earth where my brother’s body lives now. His soul, just takes up the whole space of the air I breathe. My gloves full of mud, my toes frozen and my mind was lost. Ten years ago on this very date, I remember it was raining. I said that the angels were crying. Yes I did say angels, but they are not in any sort of definition with God, since I don’t believe in God. Angels are human souls that were pure while they were alive and helped people, that once they died that still lived on in their soul, and that to me is an angel.

I had my foot on the break pedal, my hand on the gear trying to change it from Park to Drive. I couldn’t do it. I broke down again. I would hear myself crying and it was a mourner’s cry, it only made it worse. Was I watching myself cry? Was I having another outer body experience and feeling what I was feeling? I watched myself sway back and forth putting my head on the steering wheel and feeling the need to crack my head on it. My hands clutched into fists wanting to shred my coat off and everything around me. I kept pulling my hat thinking that if I just hold on to something maybe just maybe I can find some strength. But, I couldn't find any. I was weak and getting weaker.

“What is wrong with me, I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I don’t. I’m not OK, I’m not! I’m sorry! I’M SORRY!! Can you even hear me? The pain. I’m sorry, sorry.” I just wanted to scream, I wanted the whole world to know what they have lost. My brother. I wanted them to know that I now have an angel with me and I rather have my angel alive. I rather not know what it feels like to live life in a mourner’s pain. It’s something that stays with you forever. Ten years. Ten years and it still feels like it just happened. He went to Puerto Vallarta and never came back. Puerto Vallarta isn’t so nice after all!

My insides are still shivering, I’m distraught. That’s a feeling that will never go away, ever!

When I drove into the cemetery, I had a flash back when my dad just got his new Lumina. They were going to leave and I needed to know how to drive, because I was staying. My dad would let me drive in the cemetery. He would get out of the car as soon as we entered and we switched seats. I would drive to my brother. I suddenly missed my dad. I missed my mother, my brothers and sister and my nieces and nephews, my entire family and friends and mostly I felt lonely. I sat in my car for a half hour after I stood by my brother’s grave in the intolerant cold for 20 minutes. I needed to go home; I needed to get myself together. I thought I was going to get into an accident. It felt as if I was intoxicated and I had no sense of where I was going. I was numb. The cemetery was going to close and I didn’t want to be stuck inside. So I left.