The Final Return

Dearest Rachel –

He’s about a month late from his usual schedule, but it would seem that Kevin has made one last trip back up here. This time, however, is not for a visit, but to stay here permanently.

The thing is, he was a native son of the area, growing up in the Des Plaines area; even so much a part of the area history as to be among the final class of Maine North High School, made famous as the backdrop for the iconic (for our generation) movie The Breakfast Club. He didn’t graduate from there, though, as you’ll recall from his stories about his, um, colorful past.

Of course, he eventually put that past behind him, got his G.E.D., and did what he could to realize his fuller potential, both as a student of scripture and as a contributing member of society. Still, his arrested development of his early days (including, I always assumed, too many incidents where he dealt with ‘the munchies’) put him at something of a permanent disadvantage from a social and economic perspective. When his mom and stepdad moved to Tennessee, he followed them shortly, realizing that the cost of living there was considerably better than suburban Chicago – especially seeing that he could still make a comparable salary in his profession.

For fifteen years or so, we would go down to visit him, originally at the end of March and then – when my company returned their fiscal year-end to March 31, making any time off around then impractical, to say the least – around the Memorial Day weekend, while he would drive up here to see us around first Independence Day, then settling upon Labor Day (with one visit delayed until November, allowing him one final taste of the area in the beginnings of winter; he vowed not to repeat that experience, and kept that vow as far as I know).

So by rights, he should have already come and gone by now this year, but the fact of the matter is, this trip back of here is a permanent return. His father is buried up here, in a cemetery only a few blocks from my childhood home, and his ashes will be interred beside him. And of course, Daniel and I have been invited to see him off.

Of course, when I say ‘him,’ I’m simply referring to his mortal remains, or what’s left of them, anyway. As Lars put it when we drove back from Milwaukee with your ashes, the day before your funeral, “It’s just carbon; it’s not [the person] anymore.” What we’re ‘seeing off’ is no more Kevin than the diamond Tim is currently putting in a proper setting is you. My guess is that you and Kevin are better able to interact than any of us on this side of the pale are with either of you.

But it’s a matter of giving due unto the dead, after all. There are certain customs, rites and rituals, that are involved with the process. And there’s also the need for those of us left behind to assemble to remember those of you that have gone before us, and to find comfort in the shared association, as well as the assurance that we will one day meet again, just as the two of you are doing now.

***

While the cemetery is close to home, I’d essentially still end up passing the folks’ place to get there, so I offered to give them a ride if they so chose. They turned me down, preferring to get there and back on their own, but at the time, we decided to look up where it was, all the same. It was just as well; it turned out that we were mistaken as to where the family plot was. Rather than being in the larger ‘Memory Gardens’ on the south side of the street, it was in a much smaller, (presumably) older area to the north. Had we gone where we assumed we would need to, we would have been waiting a long time for everyone to show up.

Since we had arrived before anyone else, we wandered about a little, trying to find where we might need to go. Even from the back of the cemetery, we could see Euclid Road – or at least, we could see and hear the cars as they drove by, which was pretty much constantly. But most of the stones had dates at least a half-century or more old; guess the first inhabitants preferred to be further from the road, rather than being more easily accessed from it.

After a few minutes of wandering around – and being joined by the folks and Cousin Doris – we were approached by a caretaker, who observed that it was rare for multiple cars to arrive at the place at any given time, unless it was for an interment. “Are you here for Kevin…?” We acknowledged that we were, and he guided us forward a ways to the site.

Pastor Scott also made a point of stating how sometimes, God lets these things happen for a reason, bringing up the example of Lazarus. As his sisters pointed out to Him, Jesus could have gotten to Bethany sooner, and healed their brother; but He waited, and let him not only die, but stay dead for longer than Jewish tradition claimed that the soul stayed with the body, as one more powerful reminder that He was, as He claimed to be, “the Resurrection and the Life.”

Admittedly, that was not going to happen in this case. Not that God couldn’t do it if He wanted to, but because why penalize Kevin (or you), since you’re already present with the Lord? Why take you away from that at this point? The comfort we have is not in that you might come back, but that we will someday join you… one way or another.

But for now, it is time to say goodbye again.

From there, after a prayer and a few minutes of pleasantries, the folks and cousin Doris left for their respective homes. The family were planning to head to Panera for a post-ceremony lunch, and invited Daniel and I to join them (which made it worthwhile for the folks to decide not to ride with us); we suggested, since it had been such a tradition for us to go with him after church when we would visit, that we all go to McAlister’s instead. I’m pretty sure he would have approved.

Interestingly, most of the conversation, like many of these letters to you, wasn’t about the dearly departed, but rather about what was going on among us, the living; what I had been doing with my life since you (and Kevin), where the family planned to go around in the city, as long as they were in town (including how to avoid the marathon-related road closures and other traffic tie-ups), that sort of thing.

It all goes on, honey, despite your (and Kevin’s) departure; that’s life for you.

Anyway, there’s more to the day, and I’ll try to fill you in on it as it goes on, but for now, keep an eye on me, and wish me luck. I’m going to need it.