HURTING AND HEALING
They walked hand in hand, a trail of footsteps left behind them on the dew covered lawn, following the same path they used for their every visit.
Five years had passed since the night they had been woken from sleep in the early hours, opening the door to the news that parents dread hearing. Michael immediately had fallen apart, and it was left to Ben to go with the officers to identify his son, holding himself together until he lay in Michael's arms that night. Then the tears had come, Michael held him as his body racked with sobs for a part of him that he had lost. Michael understood, they had both lost a son but Hunter and Ben shared something unique.
They had cried, raged, and finally made love with an intensity that left them both exhausted as they snatched a few hours sleep, wrapped in each other, taking comfort in the feel of each other's breath on their skin, gently wiping away tears that stained each others faces, listening to whispered words of remembrance until the sun shone through the window, waking them completely from their fitful sleep to face the day ahead.
They put on a brave face for everyone, keeping their emotions in check as they went through the motions, doing what needed to be done until they climbed into bed at night.
There, alone, they could voice their innermost thoughts, not worrying about showing signs of weakness, as tears streamed down their faces.
Michael lost some of that childlike charm that Ben so loved about him; the light that had always shone from his beautiful brown eyes dimmed forever.
Ben found himself sitting in Hunter's room, which they left untouched, at odd hours. Michael would often find him there looking through Hunter's dog eared school books, his eyes bright with unshed tears.
They took comfort from each other, an event which may push other people apart, drew them even closer together. They hated to be parted for any length of time. Michael fretted when Ben was out of his sight for more than a few hours; Ben needed to hear Michael voice at regular intervals.
Days, weeks, months passed as they waited for it to get easier, for the pain to fade. They waited for the time when they didn't think of the what if's and maybe's; when they didn't think about the potential he had shown, the adventures he had still to experience, the missed chance to dance at his wedding, to hold their grandchildren in their arms. So many moments taken from them on a cold dark night by a person who had no idea that a moment of inattention would rob two people of someone who had filled their lives with more happiness than they had thought possible, given them something that they never dreamed of, a son.
Michael's step faltered as they neared the quiet corner of the cemetery. Ben knew it would, it always did at this exact spot where the sun caught the edge of the headstone. He wrapped his arm around his husband, giving him a reassuring squeeze. Michael looked up at Ben, a small smile on his lips, no words of thanks needed, as they continued the slow walk to be with their son.
Michael knelt down next to the grave, pulling out a few clumps of weeds that had grown since their last visit. The first months after it had happened neither of them were ready to come here, wanting to remember Hunter as they had last seen him, full of laughter as he grabbed the car keys, raving about the new girl he had met and intended to get to know 'way better'. They had watched as he had driven off, reminding him to drive carefully and to call if he was going to be later than midnight.
Ben settled next to Michael helping him clean up, brushing off some loose leaves stuck to the headstone. His heart still swelled with pride when he saw their son's name in full Hunter Novotny-Bruckner. The day the legal adoption papers had come through was one of the happiest days of their lives, Hunter had spent hours on the phone calling his friends, telling them they had better remember his new name or else. That evening they'd gone out for a celebration dinner, Hunter for once not grumbling about having to get dressed up.
"He would be 25 this year," Michael said looking up at Ben.
"I know."
"I wonder what he would have been like."
"I
doubt he would have changed very much, Michael."
"Yeah. Still
a smart ass kid that had an answer for everything."
Ben laughed
remembering the running battles that Hunter and Michael had shared
over the years from Michael's lack of cooking skills to Hunter's
choice of music which seemed to be chosen more to annoy Michael than
anything.
"He always knew how to get you going, didn't he?"
"And I always fell for it."
Ben leaned in, dropping a kiss on Michael's head. He was pleased that they could talk about Hunter like this; they always had been able to. Other's shied away from mentioning his name, worried about saying the wrong thing or not saying enough so in the end saying nothing. Ben understood and didn't mind, but he and Michael had never stopped talking about him, the good times and bad, and he knew that although memories would fade with time, the important ones, the ones that had left an imprint on their hearts forever would never fade.
"I still miss him so much," Michael sighed, running his hand over the cold marble.
"So do I, Baby." Ben reached for Michael's hand, bringing his fingers to his lips and kissing them.
"Ben?" Michael said quietly, his head lowered as he absentmindedly continued to pull at the weeds.
"What?" Ben could tell by Michael's voice that something was on his mind.
"When Ma came over the other night, when you had that meeting at school, she asked me…" Michael's voice faltered.
Ben pulled Michael to him, wrapping his arms around his husband's slight frame, trying to imagine what Debbie could have said. She had been a tower of strength since Hunter's death, and he couldn't think of anything she would do to upset her son.
"Tell me Michael, please." Ben rubbed in his fingers over Michael's neck; he could feel how tense Michael was, and he started to worry. No matter how strong Ben knew Michael was, he would always worry.
The strength he knew his husband possessed, but which Michael could not see in himself, had proven itself time after time over the last few years. Without Michael's continued love and support, Ben wasn't sure he would have made it. There were days early on when he would never have gotten out of bed without Michael's coaxing, telling him Hunter would not want him to give up. Michael always put Ben's needs before his own, hiding his own pain until he was alone. Ben remembered back to the times he had come home from classes early, only to find Michael already home, having shut the shop, sitting on the couch, surrounded by photo albums. He used to slip onto the couch next to him, and they would spend hours looking at the photos.
Over the years it hadn't happened as often, but Ben still sometimes found Michael standing in the kitchen preparing dinner, tears streaming down his face. He'd pick up his husband and carry him off to the bedroom, wrapping him in his arms, rocking him gently until his tears stopped.
Ben realized Michael was speaking and pulled himself back from his memories.
"She asked me if we were ready to do something with Hunter's room."
Ben felt a shiver go through Michael's body, and he tightened his grip on him.
He tried to keep his voice steady when he replied. "What did you tell her?"
"Nothing." Michael said. "I think she realized she had upset me and didn't say anything else about it."
Ben knew this subject would come up eventually. They had touched nothing in his room; both of them drawing comfort from the fact that everything in it held different parts of Hunter, be it his clothes, books or collection of video games.
Ben stood, pulling Michael to his feet, draping his arms around his shoulders.
"Do you want to talk about it, Michael?" he asked quietly, his hands finding Michael's, rubbing them to get some warmth back into them.
Michael shook his head, knowing tears were close and doing his hardest to hold them at bay. He knew they would have to talk about it, but not here, not now.
"Maybe later," he said, turning around to his husband, burying his head in his chest, feeling himself relax in Ben's arms.
They stood there as the sun went behind a cloud, a gust of wind causing them to shiver, both lost in their own thoughts, but knowing those thoughts would be mirroring each other's as if they were two parts of a jig-saw puzzle, broken forever without each other.
They took their time walking home, wandering hand in hand through the quiet streets, stopping at the market to buy some fresh fruit and vegetables. Ben picked up a book he had ordered from the local bookstore, and Michael wandered around the toy store next door while waiting for him, coming out with a bag full of presents to take to JR on their next visit.
The house was cold when they finally got home. Ben switched on the heat while Michael took the bags of groceries into the kitchen.
"Do you want coffee, Ben?" he called, flicking on the coffee machine, as he unloaded the groceries.
"Yes, please." Ben called back, putting his newly brought books on the table along with the bag of presents for JR, smiling at the amount Michael had brought. Spoiling JR was something that neither of them could resist. She was always so happy to see them, especially her father, that the gifts were a bonus. She rarely let Michael out of her sight during their visits.
He knew how much Michael missed her and wondered if the last years would have been easier for Michael if she still lived in Pittsburgh. They visited as often as they could, sometimes deciding on the spur of the moment to rent a car and drive to Toronto as a surprise. Her squeals of delight when she saw them gave them a few days to focus on something other than the empty house they had left behind and would come home to. The silence was something that had taken them both a long time to get used to.
Michael poured the coffees, wrapping his hands around the mugs to warm them as he carried them into the living room only to find it empty.
"Ben?"
No reply. He paused at the table covered with gifts for JR, knowing that it was only another 3 weeks until they would be in Toronto to pick her up and bring her back to Pittsburgh. Ben had two weeks off school and he had found someone to look after the store, and they intended to make the most of her time with them. Now that she was at school, they limited their visits to weekends, and this would be the first time they had been able to have such a long time with her and they'd spent many evenings planning activities to fill the days. A smile crossed his face as he thought of his daughter here, once again filling the house with noise and laughter.
He walked to the bottom of the stairs calling out Ben's name and heard a response so he headed up, sipping his coffee on the way. He looked in their bedroom only to find it empty and moved slowly to where he knew he would find Ben. He stopped at the door. Ben had opened the curtains, and the room was flooded with sunshine; he could see the dust particles floating in the air and realized it was due for a cleaning this weekend. Ben was sitting on the bed, obviously deep in thought and didn't look up until Michael stopped in front of him.
"Drink this while it's hot," he said, handing the steaming coffee to Ben.
"Thank you Michael." A smile crossed his face, and his heart did a little flip flop the way it always did when he took in Michael's beauty. Michael hadn't changes much physically over the years, and Ben welcomed the small changes that marked their years together. And while he might complain about every new wrinkle, Ben thought they only added to the perfection he saw every time he looked at his husband
Michael pulled up a chair and sat in front of Ben, drinking his coffee slowly as he waited for Ben to speak. He knew what was on his mind, the same thoughts that had been planted by his Mother days earlier.
"I've been thinking about what Debbie said." Ben looked at Michael, seeing a flicker of pain in his eyes at his words.
"I know," Michael answered, putting his empty cup on the floor next to him and reaching out for Ben's hands. "And what did you decide?"
"That maybe she's right. That we need to make some decisions."
"You mean clean it out?" Michael asked, his eyes scanning the room before coming to rest back on Ben.
"Maybe. I don't know. I mean it's not as if we would be removing Hunter from our lives. Everything in here," Ben gestured with a sweeping motion around the room "They represent parts of him, but external parts, the real Hunter, the Hunter that will stay with us forever, is here," he brought his hand to his heart "and here" as he touched his head.
Michael listened to Ben, hearing the heartfelt love for their son in his every word and knew he was right.
"I'm sure the Gay and Lesbian Centre would be grateful for anything we could give them," Michael suggested.
Ben leaned over and planted a kiss on his husband's mouth.
"What was that for?" Michael laughed.
"For being you, for understanding and more than anything for loving me."
Michael held Ben's gaze, both of them knowing how hard this was going to be, but knowing that together they would get through it.
"I think we have some boxes in the shed." Michael said, picking up his cup and Ben's before continuing, "Should I go and get them?"
Ben nodded and watched Michael leave the room before standing and walking to Hunter's closet. When he opened the door the sight of his son's clothes causing an intake of breath. He stood for a few moments, before reaching in and began to remove them from their hangers and lay them on the bed.
By the time Michael returned, the bed was almost covered. Michael placed a box next to the bed, and they folded each item carefully and placed it in the box, stopping every now and then to add something they particularly liked to a small collection on the floor.
When they had finished with the closet, Ben carried the boxes downstairs, then searched through the shed for more, before returning to Hunter's room.
Michael was sitting at Hunter's desk, flicking through the pages of some of his school books and looked up as Ben walked in.
"I want to keep these," he said, and Ben smiled. As always, Michael knew what was important. He looked over Michael's shoulder, reading the scrawled handwriting that belonged to Hunter.
"He never did learn how to spell did he!" Ben laughed.
Michael shook his head as he closed the book, pointing to the cover. "I think he was more interesting in covering his books with doodles by the look of these."
They grinned at each other as they tried to work out what the pictures were meant to be, giving up in the end. A teenage boy's mind sometimes was beyond comprehension.
By the time the sun had gone down, they had cleared the room, everything they wanted to keep packed into small boxes and taken to their room.
"I'll come in and give it a good cleaning tomorrow." Michael said, stretching his back as Ben closed the last drawer of the desk. "Good idea. I'll just move this bedside table so you can clean behind it."
"Thanks." Michael picked up the last box and carried it across the landing before returning to find Ben sitting on the bed a book in his hands.
"What's that?" Michael asked, coming to sit next to Ben.
Ben turned it over, showing the cover to Michael.
"The journal we gave him" Michael said quietly.
Ben heard the break in Michael voice as he flicked through the pages, every one covered with scrawled words.
"Do you think….."
"That we should just put it away?"
"Yes."
Ben turned the question over in his mind, torn between wanting to know what Hunter had written over the years but worrying that it would be too upsetting for them. He could feel Michael's eyes on him, waiting for his decision.
"Come with me."
He pulled Michael from the bed and led him into their bedroom, laying the journal next to his glasses on the bedside table before turning to Michael. "We may read things we don't want to know."
"I know that, but…."
"What?"
"I don't know. I want to read it because it is his words and his thoughts about his life, but I also feel that we would be invading such a personal part of his life."
Ben looked at Michael, amazed by the way Michael saw the clarity of the situation.
"Lets get into bed, it's getting cold." Ben said, beginning to undress and for the moment avoiding answering Michael's question.
Michael let it go and followed Ben into the bathroom, before heading back and climbing under the covers to wait for Ben.
Ben switched off the main light and climbed in next to Michael, pulling him close as he reached out for his glasses, his fingers running over the soft leather of the journal, the gold lettering of their son's name still as bright as the day they had given it to him.
Michael snuggled closer to Ben as he grabbed the journal and opened the first page.
"Today Michael and Ben asked me to be their son, and I said yes."
