“Kevin!” my father yelled at the top of his lungs.
“Yes father?”
“Didn’t I ask you to begin harvesting the crops yesterday?”
“Yes father.”
“Then why isn’t it done?”
“I’m terribly sorry father; I will have it done by sundown today.”
I rose up from my bed and put on the clothes I wore every day, which were ripped jeans, a white undershirt, a plaid shirt to go over that, and a pair of muddy-old-worn-out boots. I picked up the gold stopwatch my father had given to me as a gift on my 16th birthday from the nightstand beside my bed, and glanced down at the clear glass that was slightly cracked from the time I dropped it. I saw that it was already 5:30 a.m. and knew that I had to get going if I wanted to finish the harvest by the end of the day. I left my room, and quietly strolled past my younger sister, Kenzie’s room. Surprised that she had slept through the quarrel between my father and I that morning, I continued to my parent’s room. Knowing that my father had already left for his job, I gently pushed open the door. Expecting to see my mother lying in bed, I was surprised to see the room empty. I figured she had simply made an early run to the market, and I proceeded to the kitchen. After devouring two slices of bread with some homemade jam made from my great grandmother’s recipe that had been passed down for many generations, I headed to the barn.
Our barn was a large, red structure that my father and I had built many years ago, that was standing on its last leg. In the barn, we kept all of the necessities for maintaining the land. I approached the barn just as I had almost every morning, and unlatched the large wooden doors. I dutifully stepped onto the ladder attached to the side of our combine; a large tractor used to harvest crops, and pulled myself into the cab of the tractor. I shifted the gear stick into neutral and turned the key that started the engine. The engine to the tractor turned over for a few seconds, however it did not start. I turned the key again, and for the second time, the tractor did not start. I sat back in the seat, cursing to myself and wishing I could be lying back in my bed just as most other kids were at 5:45 in the morning. I closed my eyes and said a brief prayer, and then turned the key again. After turning over for a few seconds, the engine finally started. I shifted the combine into drive and removed the parking brake. At 6’3’’ and 195 pounds, operating the tractor was not a problem for me; it was just a matter of building up the energy to actually do it. In past years, the harvest took me from 6:00 in the morning to 9:30 at night, allowing for a 30 minute lunch break in between. Not mentally ready to pursue this tedious task, I knew I had to if I wanted to avoid being scolded by my father. I revved the engine of the combine and began the harvest. As I was driving, my eyelids slowly became very heavy and before I knew it, I could no longer keep them open. After a period of time, which I am not sure if it was a few seconds or a few minutes, I opened my eyes. Right in front of the combine, with headphones in her ears, was my mother. I slammed my foot on the break, but 50,000 pounds traveling at 15mph does not just stop at the push of the brake pedal. In final efforts to try and save my mother, I began yelling to her. She could not hear me over the music being played from her headphones, and before I could jump down and save her, it was too late. I dismounted the combine and ran over to where my mother’s mangled body lay and fell to my knees. I was devastated.
After lying next to my mother’s body crying for over an hour, I began thinking. I could not allow my father to know what happen, for he would surely hit me until I joined my mother in the afterlife. After much planning and careful consideration, I decided I would clean up my mother’s body as best I could, and then tell my father that I had found her lying next to the spinning blades of the plow. Knowing how ambitious my mother was, he would assume she had wanted to begin plowing the fields, and had an unfortunate accident. In hopes to make my cover seem a bit more realistic, I decided to hysterically phone my father and inform him of the tragedy that had occurred. Before I could finish telling father my account over the phone, he had hung up and began rushing home to see his wife. Although mother and father may have fought sometimes, the love between them was as strong as it had been on the day they wed.
When father arrived, he too fell beside his wife’s body which I had relocated to the couch in our living room. He sat here for the rest of the day, weeping, and reciting poems from mother’s favorite poetry book, “Falling Up” by Shel Silverstein.
Just then I heard a door slam, which awoke me from a deep sleep. My father walking into my room said urgently:
“Let’s go! Get up! We have to be at the Church in an hour and a half!”
I got up out of my bed, just as I had done every other day, however today was not like every other day. Today was a week after the tragic accident that cost my beloved mother her life and also the day of her funeral. Instead of putting on my usual outfit, today I was to dress in the best clothing I owned. A pair of tan-unripped khaki pants, I white button-up shirt, with a dark red tie that my father had given me to wear. After taking a few minutes to figure out how to tie my tie, I gathered my stopwatch and exited my room. I knocked on the door to my sister’s room, expecting her to still be asleep. Just as I went to turn the doorknob, the door swung open and the young girl that stood before me reminded me of the magnificent woman that had brought us both into this world. At that moment, as I was looking into my sister’s eyes, I realized I could not allow my father to believe a lie for the rest of his life. At that moment, I knew I needed to tell my father the truth.
“Kevin, we need to leave. Are you and your sister ready?” yelled my father up the stairs.
I returned his question with the answer “Yes father. We will be down in a moment.”
Kenzie and I descended the stairs just as our father was walking out the front door.
“Father, may I have a brief word with you before we go?” I said in a clear voice.
My father quickly responded with “Not now Kevin, we are going to be late!”
The church at which the services were being held was just a few blocks away, so my father, my sister and I all in our best clothing, walked three blocks to St. Joseph’s Church. This church was no more than a small white building with the capacity of somewhere around 250 people. In a small town, that’s all they have ever really needed. The small patch of grass in front of St. Joseph’s was the greenest grass in all of the town, and was complemented nicely by a few bushes and flowers that seemed to flourish even during the worst droughts. To the right of the Church was a parking lot that parked no more than 25 cars, thus forcing many cars to park in the road. When entering, the smell of candles and tears immediately filled your nose. Until the moment I stepped foot into that church, I did not realize how many people my mother had touched during her life. Realizing what I had done and the pain I had caused for so many people in our town, I knew that now was the time to confess. After building up the courage, I approached the alter, which held a podium that was for anyone who wanted to say a few words about my mother. I stood behind the podium and my heart began beating faster than ever. I thought about turning around and running off the stage, but I knew this had to be done. I broadened my shoulders, cleared my throat and began what would be the hardest thing I would ever have to do in my life.
“Excuse me ladies and gentlemen, may I please have your attention. We are all gathered here today, for an extremely unfortunate cause. However, there is something that has been slowly eating away at my conscience since my mother’s death. Everyone gathered here today, whether friends or family, are under the impression that my mother passed away in an accident involving farm equipment. And while this is true, she did not exactly pass the way you all may think. The truth is, on the morning of her passing, I was to begin harvesting the crops on our farm. As I was operating the combine, I was extremely tired, resulting in me falling asleep behind the wheel of a 50,000 pound piece of deadly equipment. As I awoke, I was faced with an image that will be burned into my mind forever. I saw my mother knelt over in front of the combine picking crops by hand. With music playing through headphones in her ears she had no clue I was coming. Before I was able to stop the combine, it was too late. I cleaned up her body, and told my father she had had an accident with the plow and that when I went out to begin harvesting, she was lying next to the spinning blades. I realize now that not only was I the cause of my mother’s death, but I lied to a whole town of people, and most importantly, my father and sister. I know that this apology and anything I ever do will not be able to express how sorry I am or be able to ease the pain of your grieving in anyway, however it needs to be done. I would like to offer my deepest sorrow and condolences to all those touched by my mother.”
I stepped back from the podium and glanced around at the blank faces that stared me in the eyes. As I walked down the alter stairs, people among the crowd began whispering to each other. I did not care what anyone said, except for my father. I was headed for the door when a cold hand reached out and grabbed my arm. Without looking, I knew exactly who it was.
My father spoke softly to me, “I appreciate what you did out there.”
“You raised me better than this father. I should have just told you the truth in the beginning. You have every right to be mad.” I replied.
“Your mother and I raised you to be the man you are today. It takes a real man to get up there in front of his entire town and speak truthful words as you just did. I have no reason to be mad at you. An incident with the combine could have happened to anyone and if I didn’t force you to begin the harvest before you were ready to operate the combine, this probably would not have happened. Your mother’s passing has opened my eyes and made me realize that I need to be a better father to you and your sister.”
Instead of dwelling on the fact the my mother has passed away, our family has accepted the fact that we must celebrate the wonderful life that she lived and also accept the fact that she is in a better place now, with God.