Memorial Day

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Synopsis:

Cassie died in a war fought by many, won by some and as happened with Cassie lost by others.

Memorial Day

Erin said it could be any holiday

Story:

I went back to read Erin's blog on the contest and started thinking about other holidays and subjects. This is the result. If I offend you I apologize, but at least it's short. I will use an editor next time, but the muse spoke and had to be released.

Memorial Day

by Dru

I sit here as I do every year and wonder why. Why did my friend have to die. Wasn’t there another way. Lord, there should have been. I miss my friend every day, but I only visit her grave site on Memorial Day. It seems appropriate that I visit on the day our country honors those who died in war. Cassie died in a war fought by many, won by some and as happened with Cassie lost by others. She died at the age of twenty after fighting a war of wills for over twelve years. She wasn’t a hero in the normal sense of the word, but she was a hero to me. I will always love and admire her.

***

I know that whatever I write will not do justice to Cassie. You can’t package sunshine nor can you convey the beauty of a flower opening on a spring morning as the dew glistens and reflects the glory of the flower and the day. That was Cassie. She embraced life and loved the moment. So I must apologize to all of you for my failings.

I first met Cassie when we were twelve years old. She moved into the big house down the block. Shortly we became friends and stayed friends until the end. She had a zest for life that I’ll cherish until the day I die. She didn’t fit into any mold. She made her own way. Even if her parents didn’t understand, she stood on her own and squared her shoulders to meet the challenge of the moment and of society.

Unfortunately, over time the challenges wore her down and even her spirit could not overcome what was put in front of her.

At first I didn’t understand. How could I. I was only twelve years old. However, by the time we were Sophomores in high school I had come to understand that Cassie was a very special individual. In some ways I guess I was her protector. I had been her friend since she moved into town and stood beside her even when others turned their backs on her.

All she wanted was to be accepted for who she was. We were inseparable and at times I was chastised for associating with her. I thank my parents for their support. They raised me to be true to friends and Cassie was my friend so there wasn’t anything else to do but be there for her.

I’ll always remember the day I went to her house to pick her up on my way to school. It was just before Thanksgiving during our Junior year. When I knocked on the door her mother answered. I asked if Cassie was ready for school. Her mother said that Cassie wouldn’t be going to school. They had enrolled her in a Military School in northern Indiana.

I couldn’t believe that her parents could do that to her. Yes, I knew she wasn’t well accepted at school, but military school would destroy her spirit and crush her. I tried to contact Cassie but her parents wouldn’t give me her telephone number and her email was blocked. She didn’t come home for Thanksgiving, but did make it home for Christmas.

Her hair had been cut short and although she was still herself I could tell that she was as unhappy as I had ever seen her. She had finally told her parents what she wanted to do with her life and apparently her goals were unacceptable to her parents and she found herself shipped off to military school.

That summer she was only home for a week at the beginning of summer and three days at the end. That summer she was at an ROTC camp or something learning how to be a soldier. She didn’t want to be a soldier.

Our senior year in high school, which should have been our time of triumph and celebration was spent writing letters to one another and telling each other that we were both okay. All through this I could sense that the Cassie I knew was slipping away. Her spirit was gradually being worn down.

After graduation, she was home for one week before she was sent to summer school at the exclusive school that her parents had selected. Although we had fun together there was a sadness to her that I hadn’t seen before.

I promised her that I was there for her and that once we were done with college we would be able to live our lives as we chose. This was the thought that I wanted her to hold onto as we parted when she left for college.

Over the next seventeen months we talked often, wrote to each other and emailed each other every day. At times I felt her slipping further away. Other times I knew that the old Cassie was there and her spirit glowed as bright as the brightest star.

She didn’t come home for Christmas break. I think her parents took her somewhere for Christmas. All during break and when I returned to school I emailed her everyday with no response. She was going to college a thousand miles from where I was in college. I was worried, but I didn’t know what to do.

On January 17th I received an email from her. It read:

Josh,

I wanted to tell you how much I have cherished your
friendship and love. Without you I couldn’t have
made it this far. I’ve tried as hard as I can, but I can’t
go on anymore.

I will always love you and I hope you can forgive me
for being so weak. I know you will find someone who
can give you what you need. I wish it could have been
me, but its just not meant to be.

Please forgive me.

All my love forever.

Love,

Cassie

I called her phone, her cell phone, the University, and the police without success. Finally, I got in my car and started to drive. I didn’t get there in time.

I went to the funeral and sat in the back of the church. I listened to all the pious words and watched her parents cry for their lost child. But, I never heard or saw any feeling or love for their child, just disappointment.

***

That was over five years ago. Sometimes I wonder what her parents think or feel, but I don’t really care. In my mind they killed their daughter. I have not spoken with them. They called my parents and asked if I could give them any insight into why Cassie had done what she did. I never called them. I knew that they knew the reason but wouldn’t accept it.

I can’t accept it either. My best friend in the world and the woman I loved isn’t alive. I wonder everyday if there was something I could have done or something I could have said, but I’ll never know because she is gone.

So here I sit on the ground in front of her headstone and let the tears fall. Oh, Cassie, why did you have to go away? Was the pain too great? Wasn’t my love enough? Why Cassie?

The gravestone doesn’t answer. There is no answer, and the tears flow.

As I get ready to leave, I again read the inscription on the headstone.

Charles Evan Wright, III

Loving Son

Notes:

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Comments

The gravestone doesn’t answer.

Andrea Lena's picture

...There is no answer, and the tears flow. As did mine. Thank you.


Dio vi benedica tutti
Con grande amore e di affetto
Andrea Lena

  

To be alive is to be vulnerable. Madeleine L'Engle
Love, Andrea Lena

Worth a bump

Saw this pop up on Stardust, and thought it was worth a bump back into the current comments here on BC. I don't know how I missed it when you first posted it, except I was busy with family and the holidays. Nothing here to apologize for, a fine story.

Karen J.

* * * * * * * *
Change We Can Believe In - Barack Obama

Meet the new boss,
Same as the old boss

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"Life is not measured by the breaths you take, but by the moments that take your breath away.”
George Carlin

heatbreaking

I came across this one on random solos, and just had to comment.

Too many of us end up like this, even now.

Dorothycolleen, member of Bailey's Angels

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Cassie

littlerocksilver's picture

This is another one of those stories that should not be confined to this and similar sites. This is sad beyond understanding. Parents of children similar to this should have to read this every night before they go to bed, and every morning first thing. Portia

Portia

Memorial Day

Dru, this sad story is like Karen Page's story Denied. BOTH are stories that are sad to read.

    Stanman
May Your Light Forever Shine
    Stanman
May Your Light Forever Shine

Dru true to lasting friendships

Be it someone we love or the wish to have a friend like you wrote about
We don't get to write the so called big picture
But one like your's might be more important
Do we have or can we be such a friend that makes a different.

Dru you have progressed as a writer but to this theme remain true.

JessieC

Jessica E. Connors

Jessica Connors

Memorial day

Dear Drew,
not a typical Christmas story but
you had me nearly down in tears.

To loose a dear friend in such a way,horrible to imagine and this big lie on the gravestone:

"Loving son"

Well,did they ever heard her small lovely soul crying?
And to refuse her to contact her only true friend...

I am so glad we can share our true feelings in here and don't need to hide.

Merry Christmas to you Dru.

Love and Hugs

Sidonie

Nicely Done

Thank you for expressing an emotion many of us feel when the world demands we fit their mold.

Angela Rasch (Jill M I)

Angela Rasch (Jill M I)

Thanks Dru!

I wasn't sure what to expect when I saw the Holiday you was writing for, Memorial Day? What I got was an tender, loving story of one person caring for another. The parents, whose duty it was to protect and nourish that life destroyed it by trying to make it fit something she wasn't. Even after her death, she had to fit their preconceptions. Thanks Dru!
hugs!
grover-

We never meet Cassie

kristina l s's picture
But I am sure many can picture her. The image will vary and the name could be a thousand others. And yet we see the same thing. Very well done Kristina

sad story

this was a very sad story but the saddest part is that in many ways this story is not fiction. I wish there was something that could be done for all of the Cassies out there

Thanks for the story

Jenny :)

Appearances are deceiving

Your story is well told. It provokes comments, even from those of us who are long out of the fray. It seems to this reader that the parents never, ever considered the needs nor wants of their child. They were more concerned over maintaining a proper picture for the scion of their prestigious (Phaugh!) clan. This was borne out in the complete lack of sensitivity in marking the gravestone to fit their desired inscription. The only thing that lessens that act is, it no longer makes any difference to Cassie what they want or do. Cassie is, at last, free of their self deluded control and domination.

I almost forgot to thank you for posting this, as you have me so upset by the values of your fine tale.

Well Done and Touching

Just enough to make the point of the story crystal clear. The ending seals it. Wonderful.

Hugs,
Geronwyl

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Some realities are limited by what we sense, others are defined by what we dream.

Some realities are limited by what we sense, others are defined by what we dream.