A Friend With Grief

The glorious orange sunlight backlit scrawny Austin, who sat against an oak tree at the top of a small, steep hill strumming his banjo and smiling with a straw between his teeth. The smile that enveloped the bottom half of his square head was firm and unshakable; a smile that couldn’t be broken. His wide nose made his beady eyes even smaller, and his large ears made his eyes nearly invisible. But if a fortunate soul had the privilege to find those small eyes on Austin’s face, they’d remember his look forever.

Austin plucked the strings with his finger picks and bobbed his knee to the beat. He warbled his tune making his Adam’s apple shoot up and down like a bounce ball. Whether he could sing well or not was hard to tell because the passion in his voice drowned out the pitch. He loved the gift of song.

He finished his song and looked up at the changing sky, staring at pink clouds. He sighed contently and then rested his hands on the banjo.

“Aw, Mary,” he uttered. “Wish I coulda taken you up on your offer sooner. Been nice to have had the time if I knew it’d be the last.”

He looked to his left and saw the sunflower sun warm his face as it neared the horizon. He squint so he could watch it. The gentle heat waves made the sun dance as it sunk lower in the sky, turning its colors as it left, and then slipping away.

“Wish I had one last talk with ya,” he whispered Austin looked down the hill and saw a woman climbing up the short hill. Austin’s face was overcome with joy.

“Mary?”

“Hey, snot,” Mary smiled.

“How are ya here?”

“Heard your prayer and decided I’d come by myself.” Mary reached the top and embraced her brother. Austin hugged her as if he had saved all his hugs in life just for her. They sat down against the oak tree.

“This place feels just it like did ‘fore I passed,” Mary commented.

“Aw, Mary. It’ll never be the same now that you’re gone.”

“How’re Ma and Pop?”

“Bit angry, to be honest.”

“I reckon.” Mary smiled at Austin, whose eternal smile grew earnestly.

“You heard my prayer?” Austin asked.

“I did. I wanted to offer you my two cents – now, hopefully, you’ll listen to what I gotta say, snot.” She winked at him.

“Alright,” Austin chuckled. “I’ll listen.”

“You sound like you got a little regret tucked away in your heart.”

Austin looked away from her and nodded his head. “Yeah. You’re right.”

“What about?”

“Well… Mary, I just wish I’d had done some thing’s a little different with you ‘fore you left. Do you remember that right before you went up to be with The Lord, you promised me you’d make it?”

“I do,” she agreed.

“Now, I don’t hold a grudge about that, things just happen and it’s alright to not be alright with that. But you promised if you made it out of that hospital we’d go get crawfish at Sloppy Sam’s. Do you remember that?”

“Of course I do, snot! It’s the last thing I said to ya!” She nudged him jokingly.

“Alright, fair enough.” He paused and struggled to continue.

Mary leaned over and got a better look at his small eyes. “Why’re you remember that, aside from it being our last conversation?”

Austin sighed deeply. “I didn’t take you to Sloppy Sam’s enough. I didn’t know how much that’d mean to me, Mary. I can’t help but keep thinking about all the times I said no to ya.”

Mary reached over and rubbed his back. “Ohhh, Austin.” He leaned his head on her shoulder to let her comfort him. “Is that what that regret is all about? You’re beating yourself cuz you didn’t take me out enough?”

“I just wish I had spent more time with ya, Mary. I don’t think I realized how bad I was gonna miss ya.” Austin’s smile was starting to disappear.

“Now, look at me,” she said tenderly; he did. “I told you I had two cents to offer, didn’t I?” He nodded. “You wanna know what I came to tell ya?” He nodded again. She lifted his chin with her knuckle and smiled peacefully. “You ain’t perfect, snot.”

Austin side-eyed her and laughed nervously. “Whaddya mean?”

“You’re holding yourself to a standard that no one has. Because you want to know the truth about our life together? I’m the luckiest gal to have had you as my brother. And I don’t think you didn’t love me enough. You gave me all you had to offer, and I cherish the life I had. This feeling of regret your trying to hold on to is just hurting you.”

Austin clutched his banjo and swallowed. “I just wish I could’ve made our last day together… different. And the days before. Knowing we’d have such little time together.”

“How would you have done things different?” she comforted him. “What I think you’ve done in your heart is mistaken grief for regret. Life is full of love and joy, but when that passes you’re met with grief. A person can’t have grief if they don’t have someone to lose. You and I know people who are too scared to experience grief so they’ll avoid love altogether. But grief… grief is a good thing. It’s letting you look back on what we did as siblings and make it even more special. Sure, it’ve been nice to have more time together, but that’s not the world we live in, is it?”

Mary waved for Austin to pass the banjo her way. He stretched his arm out and she grabbed it by the neck and quickly positioned over herself. “I remember buying this ol’ thing for you. Ma and Pop said not to – I had told them I wanted to for your birthday – cuz they never thought you’d practice it after that day.” She plucked a few strings and smiled from the sound.

“I practiced cuz I didn’t want to disappoint you,” he admitted.

Mary looked at him and smirked. “And you never did.”

Austin’s smile brightened, filling the whole bottom half of his face. He listened to her strum, making up a melody to pass the time.

“Try to make friends with grief, Austin,” Mary advised as she looked at the dark sky through the oak tree leaves. “It’ll do you good.”

As she plucked the banjo and closed her eyes, Mary began singing a song both she and Austin knew. Together they sang, harmonizing in the night.

The song finished, and Austin grabbed the banjo off the ground. He was alone under the oak tree, but his smile would never fade.