The Music Book Stories 2: So Far Away
Mark grew up in a quiet coal-mining town in Pennsylvania – Wilkes-Barre; founded on the premise of hard work and minimum wage. The early habitants of Wilkes-Barre had come off the boats, and gone right into the mines. They drank their sorrows away at night. This, modern doctors blame, or say rather, is due to a genetic factor, or “the gene.” Mark’s father had “the gene.”
Growing up, Mark never knew his mother. She had left her father the night Mark was born; he used to beat her. Skipping out of the hospital unnoticed and unfollowed, his father had reluctantly taken in the infant with closed arms. The derision was evident even then.
Mark’s father drank – a lot. He had trouble handling his liquor on many occasions. The remedy; drink more. He was surly, overweight, and had a short fuse. When he was sober, he was an angel. When he was intoxicated, he was the devil. Fire flew from his eyes, and the beatings lasted hours.
Mark grew up as any child did. He attended, and eventually graduated, from high school. He attended a college, far away from the small town he originally grew up in, on purpose.
One day at school, Mark received the call.
The small church was speckled with the usual crowd: a few friends, colleagues, drinking buddies and girlfriends. A priest presided over the ceremony. The whole thing was on the principle of tradition, the inescapable Honor Thy Father clause. This was the life Mark knew, and the life he accepted. He was then called up to give the eulogy.
(00:00)
Mark picked up his head as the Priest called him up to the podium. He hadn’t prepared any sort of speech for the occasion. It was on such short notice, and he didn’t have all that much to say about his father. Professionally, no one knew about the abuse, the drinking, the beatings that took place behind four walls. What would he say?
(00:09)
Mark rose from his pew and headed up to the stage. People in attendance weren’t even sitting near one another. A person was over here. Another was over there. The chaos Mark viewed his and his father’s lives as was being represented perfectly.
Mark adjusted the microphone down to his mouth. Looking around the room, there were no sounds. His head was black. But suddenly, the emotions began to seep through:
(00:19)
“This is my life. Its not what it was before. All these feelings I’ve shared. And these are my dreams, I’ve never lived before. Somebody shake me cause I, I must be sleeping.
Mark turns away from the people, and towards the still casket. With tears in his eyes, he yells:
“Now that we’re here, so far away. All the struggle we thought was in vain. And all the mistakes, one life can take. They all finally start to go away. Now that we’re here, so far away. And I feel like I can face the day. I can’t believe that I’m not ashamed to be the person that I am today.”
Turning again towards the crowd, emotion stains everyone’s faces, not just Mark’s. A woman is crying; a man sits open-mouthed.
(01:29)
“These are my words, I’ve never said before. I think I’m doing okay. This is the smile, that I’ve never shown before. Somebody shake me cause I, I must be sleeping.”
Mark had not planned on this welling of emotion and struggle. He addressed the empty faces of those attending. Had they any clue what this emotional outpouring was about?! Did they know the love and the hate Mark felt toward the man who had recently departed? It was like a dream to him, and he was so scared that soon his waking hour would arrive.
Mark turned away, and once again looked at his father in the casket.
“Now that we’re here, so far away. All the struggle we thought was in vain. And all the mistakes, one life can take. They all finally start to go away. Now that we’re here, so far away. And I feel like I can face the day. I can’t believe that I’m not ashamed to be the person that I am today.”
Turning around toward the crowd, he began to tear at his chest. The emotions were pouring out like the tears from his eyes. He could not see through the blurring wetness in his eyes. This was the moment of Mark’s release.
(02:42 )
“I’m so afraid of waking; please don’t shake me; afraid of waking; please don’t shake me.”
Now he was on his knees. The pastor ran up to the man, putting his hands on his shoulders. Other men from the audience approached the defeated figure. Mark collapsed in a fit of emotion. The tears would not stop, and he wept with the mixture of both happiness and loss that he felt.
The emotion ran strong throughout the room, and soon, family and friends alike were overcome with the tears of a mournful service. Mark’s words were beautiful, powerful, and commanding. Regaining composure and posture, the boy now returned to his place in the front pew; alone.
The funeral continued on.
