The Only One In Black

     I walked into the building and looked around at the unfamiliar faces. "Maybe I shouldn't be here" I thought to myself. I walked on further into the room and signed my name. I then proceeded to stand in the line that had formed. I soon realized that what I thought was a line was not a line at all. It was more of a collection of people standing and chatting amongst themselves. They seemed content in their conversation even though it seemed to me like they were facing the wrong direction.

      I leaned over to try to get a peek of him between two shoulders. I was very concerned with how he was going to look, but he seemed to look fine. "Thank God" I thought.

     I decided to go over and sit on the couch and wait until the crowd cleared out. As I sat down, I glanced around the room. Everyone seemed nice and friendly. They were casually dressed people standing and sitting around in groups. There were mostly family groups gathered in the front and back of the room. There were also some older couples scattered around. Some sat in the chairs that were lined up in pew form. It seemed like a family reunion as they all seemed to know each other as they chatted and laughed.

      All at once it hit me. I didn't know anybody here. Absolutely nobody looked familiar to me. Yet they were all here to see Clyde just like I was. How could that be? I saw Clyde almost every day. I joked with him and helped him with things and it is not going to be the same without him.

     Suddenly, I needed to cry. Cry, because I would never see Clyde again. Cry, because I would never again hear him say 'Hey' the way he always did. Cry, because he would never again point out to me when there was something out of place. Whether it was a tissue on the floor or a table not lined up, Clyde would always be there to keep us on our toes. He would come tell you if one of the other residents weren't where they were supposed to be.

     Yea, there were things that weren't that great about him. He would tap all the girls on the behind. He paced constantly and even stomped his feet when he was sitting. He was getting to the point where he couldn't get his words out correctly and so he was a little difficult to understand. But, that was just Clyde and I loved him. I loved him.
I stood up and walked hurriedly across the room. I took another glance at Clyde's body laying there. He did look good. I couldn't stop the flow of tears as I left the building. I went out to my car and just let loose. I was glad that my windows were slightly tinted. So many emotions were bottled up and the worst one of all was anger. I was angry at the person that let this happen. Everyone knows that Clyde goes outside all of the time. How could they not notice him missing? Why didn't they do a bed check? Even if for some reason they didn't hear the alarm go off, they still should have done a bed check, then maybe they could have got him in before he froze to death.

      The image that was described in the conversation that I overheard flashed through my mind. "He was black and stiff as a board when they finally found him at 2:30 in the morning." That is crazy! I wonder how long it takes for an older gentleman to freeze to death like that. It was extremely cold and we had told him repeatedly not to go out to the garden area. He was so used to being able to go out there because there was a locked gate and so he just walked on his little circle path and came right back in.
It was just this past week or so that it had gotten below freezing. Then it fell below zero and we had a small blizzard. The maintenance men couldn't keep up with the snow because the wind kept blowing it right back on the path. We even had pulled furniture in front of the door (against State regulations) because the sign that I had him help me make (and had him read to me repeatedly) that said "CLYDE, DO NOT GO OUTSIDE. IT IS TOO COLD!" wasn't good enough. Of course, he probably just moved the big couch right out of the way and went on out the door. He had to have because it was still there when I came in the next morning, (along with police investigators and people from the state of course).

     It's a huge mess and so it's no wonder I felt so uncomfortable in there at the viewing. The viewing. I was mad again all of a sudden. They were all just standing around talking and laughing. I couldn't understand it. I couldn't even cry in there because nobody else was.

     Then it hit me. They weren't sad because they didn't know Clyde. At least not the Clyde that I knew. I never saw any of them come and visit. I saw him almost every day. The Clyde that they knew, they probably mourned for a long time ago. The normal Clyde that I had never met would have no reason to live in a nursing home on the dementia unit.

     I bowed my head and prayed for God to console me. I hate feeling anger. I knew that I wasn't really angry at those people. I know who is in control of the big picture. Anyway, everyone deals with things differently and I know that it is hard for people to see their loved ones like that. If God didn't lead me into this profession I would have never picked it for myself. Now, I wouldn't have it any different. I love those people so much and even if I am getting cursed at or hit, God gives me the strength to know that it is the disease, not the person, that is striking out towards me.

     I started the car and pulled away. I felt a little better now. I said my goodbyes to Clyde, but I knew that I would never forget him. He had become like a family member to me and he would always be in my heart. He didn't pass the way the others that I was close to did. I was more prepared and relieved to see them out of their suffering. My incident at the viewing reminded me that he was still suffering. He wasn't who he used to be. The Clyde that I knew and grew to love wasn't the true Clyde that he can be now. God please take him to You. Amen.

Reviews

[Sam]

I think the best part of this story is that it’s written as if it really happened. Were you documenting an experience perhaps? Was it yours or did it belong to someone else, I wonder? Well, even if it wasn’t made up and you simply wrote what you thought, I feel like Clyde was a real person with a real soul. Even if he wasn’t real, the world would be a darker place without him indeed. I think your story is amazing.

[Lizzy]

thank you for submitting this to my contest. this is a very touching story. death is always hard to deal with. i enjoyed reading about how you knew Clyde and how he was different from the Clyde they knew.