I checked the mail this afternoon when I got home and saw that I had an envelope from Jeff’s sister. I opened it and saw that she had sent a copy of his death certificate to me – which we’d discussed and which I’d been expecting. I read through it and there were no surprises – the official cause of his death was what I’d expected based on what the medical examiner and the detective had told me the day that we found him.
What I wasn’t expecting is how hard it would hit me. As I read those dry and sterile words on the paper, I got overwhelmed. It was like I’d been physically struck. I sank to the floor of my living room and wept uncontrollable for a few minutes.
And then, by slow degrees, I got myself back under a semblance of control and stood back up to get a tissue to wipe my eyes. After all, there were things to do and places to go and if I’m nothing else, I’m a do-er.
Next will be a round of paperwork with debts to be settled and decisions to be made. Jeff had left me some money and my plan is to hold back what he had borrowed from me, then give the rest to his family. I suppose I’ll be able to put that towards a car since mine is in such bad shape and we’ll all begin a new round of trying to move on.
His family will soon be going to Myrtle beach to spread part of his ashes off the pier at the beach he so loved. And I think some time this summer I’ll make a trip to Jeff’s hometown to visit the grave where the rest of his ashes have been put to rest.
Just a simple piece of paper. A summary of a person’s death and the last few moments of their life. I know that I’ll need to read this again as I make my phone calls and sort out some paperwork, but I think for tonight I’ll put it away and try and get some rest.