So, yeah...I've come out of hibernation and finally finished the final drabble for this story.
Below is a song by the bearded wonder, Sam Beam, who is the genius behind Iron & Wine. Seriously, the crush I have on the man is a little creepy. Anywho, hope you enjoy!
Mother forgive me
I sold your car for the shoes that I gave you
So may the sunrise bring hope
Where it once was forgotten
Sons are like birds
Flying upward over the mountain
~"Upward Over the Mountain" by Iron & Wine
Children shouldn't die young. It's a simple fact of life. Children are meant to prosper in their pursuits and see the world unfold into something new.
But sometimes fate has other ideas.
As Tony's mother sits in front of the funereal director who is making her son's final arrangements, she thinks about this unsettling role reversal. She should be the one whose name is being chiseled into a polished stone, not her son's. The skimpy outline for a hurried service rests on the director's desk. It's nothing too fancy, because she knows Tony wouldn't of wanted it that way. The director asks her some questions and she nods absent-mindedly. He mentions something about how many people she thinks will attend. Twenty, no maybe more like fifteen. She thinks of that girl her son was seeing—Maria if she recalls correctly. Yes, Maria, she thinks, should attend too.
Tony never asked much from her in life. They had a quaint mother-son relationship, Tony never being much of a problem child. Troubled, perhaps, she thinks, but never a problem. Never a problem at all.