As they approached the cemetery, Jake spotted Grey’s SUV behind them then spied Paul and Maddy a few cars ahead of them. In convoy, the three vehicles drove down the long straight narrow avenue that led to the heart of the cemetery. They parked side by side in the car park under the shade of a canopy of trees. Just as the Silver Lake party was preparing to walk over to join the others at the graveside, a silver Mercedes pulled up and Linsey stepped out. With tears in her eyes, she hugged each of them then followed as they all walked sombrely down the path towards the freshly dug grave.
There were less than twenty people gathered in the shade of a tree that grew beside Rich’s final resting place. In the past, his father had had the foresight to buy a section of the graveyard for the family. Rich was to be laid to rest between his mother and beloved grandmother.
Holding Lori’s hand tightly, Jake listened as the priest delivered his short eulogy. When she had brought Rich’s body home, Maria had asked Jake if he would read something at the service. Her words of guidance had been vague – “something appropriate”, “nothing religious.” She had ended the call by saying she trusted his judgement. Feeling his throat tighten with nerves, Jake hoped that the verse he had chosen was what she had had in mind.
While the priest read a short passage from the bible, Jake listened to the birds in the surrounding trees, hoping that in his last moments Rich had succeeded in seeing the sun set over the valley in the Smoky Mountains; hoped he’d found the peace he was so desperately seeking.
“Jake,” said the priest quietly, indicating that he should step forward.
Squeezing his hand, Lori whispered, “Showtime.”
Letting out a long sigh, Jake slowly stepped forward to stand at the foot of the empty grave. To his left stood the plinth supporting Rich’s walnut casket. In a few short minutes, along with the rest of the band and close friends, he would help lower his friend to his final resting place. A fresh wave of grief crashed over him as he slipped his prompt card from the back pocket of his black pants. On impulse, he pulled the black cord from his ponytail and shook his long sun-bleached hair loose. His hand trembled noticeably as he looked at the small group of mourners. Clearing his throat, Jake began,
“Feel no guilt in laughter; he’d know how much you care.
Feel no sorrow in a smile that he’s not here to share.
You cannot grieve forever; he would not want you to.
He’d hope that you could carry on the way you always do.
So, talk about the good times and the way you showed you cared.
The days you spent together, all the happiness you shared.
Let memories surround you, a word someone might say.
Will suddenly recapture a time, an hour, a day.”
Jake paused, feeling his eyes fill with tears. With a few deep breaths, he composed himself and continued,
“That brings him back as clearly as though he were still here.
And fills you with the feeling that he is always near.
For if you keep these moments, you will never be apart.
And he will live forever locked safely within your heart.”
Quiet sobbing echoed round the still cemetery.
With his emotions in turmoil, Jake took the cord in his hand as directed and along with Grey, Paul, Todd, Scott and Jethro, they lowered Rich’s casket into the ground. The coffin was heavier than anticipated and the six of them took care not to bump the sides of the deep grave. With a gentle thump, the box came to rest on the bottom.
As the priest offered up another short prayer, Maria stepped forward, dropped a single white rose onto the top of her brother’s casket and a small handful of dirt. Taking it in turn, the members of Silver Lake also tossed in a handful of soil accompanied by their own final quiet message for their friend. When it was his turn, Jake reached into his pocket, pulled out a few guitar picks and tossed them in followed by the card with the poem and a handful of dirt.
With a final blessing, the priest brought the ceremony to a close.
It was over.
Their final farewells said.
Without a word, Jake led Lori away from the grave. They had barely taken half a dozen steps when Maria called him back.
“Jake,” she called, her voice husky. “Wait.”
“Maria,” he replied, turning to embrace her. “I hope that was alright.”
“It was perfect,” replied Rich’s sister warmly. “I’ve booked lunch for everyone at the hotel where I’m staying. Will you and Lori join us?”
Jake nodded then listened as she told him which hotel they were to meet at. It was the same hotel on the Coastal Highway where the band had launched their first album; the same hotel where he’d sat with Gary’s young brother during a thunderstorm.
The buzz of conversation, interspersed with chinking of glasses, filled the small private dining room at the hotel. Three round tables had been set for them, close enough to allow them all to chat. As was to be expected there were tears but, gradually, they all began to share memories and smiles and laughter crept into the room.
Seated beside Jason and Jethro, Jake only half-listened to their conversation about the band. To his right, Lori was sitting chatting to Maddy, both of them deep in conversation about pre-schools and kindergarten classes.
“Jake,” said a soft
