“03/20/2017

My name is Cecil Alfa Brown. Caroline told me I should write every day to keep my mind sharp. As silly as it sounds, I will do it for her. She may not know it, but she is my best and only friend left in this world, besides Phil. Even though this is foolish in my opinion. I mean, why would you want an eighty-something-year-old to write about anything? I mean why would I even want to write? It is completely pointless. So, here’s to writing for the pointlessness of making my mind “sharper.”

-Cecil Alfa Brown.

***

03/28/2017

Caroline got mad because I was not as detailed as she wanted apparently.  She said something about my letter being too “sassy and not taking it seriously.” She said they may have been only surface level and that I should go deeper in the way only I can. I do not understand what that means, but it may be worth a shot. I guess there is no good way to start this, but I guess I can try to write out my days and memories before they leave me. Because the good lord knows soon, I will have nothing to write down. Now I am by no means a good writer and I do not know who will read these.

My guess is Caroline is the only one who would want to read it. Caroline has been my nurse for somewhere between 10 and 20 years, if not my whole life. Ever since she was young, she was always around. Hanging out and baking in the kitchen with Etta or playing in our back yard. She loved our house and loved us. I rely on her a lot now a days. It is hard to be independent when I can’t even walk from my bedroom to my desk in less than five minutes. There have been close calls where I have fallen or just needed someone’s help and like an angel sent from heaven, she shows up in the perfect time to help me. The reliance I have on her is my burden and hers is me.

I have tried to pay her for her time but because her teacher growing up was Etta, my wife, she feels the need to do it all for free. That is the worst thing to me. I want to give her something for the burden I am to her, yet time after time I have tried, and she declines it every time. She says something about “It’s what Etta would have wanted.” I don’t understand it.

Honestly, I don’t even hear her anymore. Most of the time, I guess what people are saying. Seems to work out good so far. Has gotten me in trouble with Phil a couple times. He is an honest and good man, but for some reason I heard the wrong words come from his mouth. He knows I mean well and that I may be losing more than just my ears. He tried pushing it off and telling me it was okay. I told him not to take it lightly and he then offered to come in for some coffee to talk. I love Phil so of course I said yes and ever since then we have been having coffee every week. He brings in my mail for me too. Just in case I missed something. He’s kind of like my own personal mailman.  It is the only part of my week I look forward to, other than Caroline coming every day. Phil and I just talk about life. We are about the same age, but his legs have kept up with him more than mine. His internal health though is getting up there. Nevertheless, we chat for a while every week about everything. He tells me about his wife, family, and I tell him stories about Etta and I. We even talk about baseball even though we both have never played.  He keeps bringing up Caroline a lot more recently. I am not sure why. Something about her wanting to go teach. I did ask her about it later and she just smiles and says I’m more important right now. Ain’t that the sweetest thing. I cannot say I want her to go. I rely on her a little too much. But I think she would make a great teacher.  When she leaves, I hope it is after I leave. I did not think I would be talking about this. Maybe I should stop before I say something I don’t mean.

-Cecil Alfa Brown.

***

05/24/2017

Today is my birthday. Actually, yesterday was. Wow, It sure felt like it was today.

I still have cake that Caroline brought me. Got a little stale from sitting out, but it’s still good. It’s only chocolate cake, what’s it going to do? Kill me? If the numbers on the cake are right, I turned eighty-seven. I still look good for that old. I think Phil came over to join in. We talked. I don’t recall what it was he spoke of, but I remember his present. He gave me a new hat. I will not be wearing it. I don’t need any new clothes. Why would I want new things when I may not need them later in life? My hat works perfectly fine for me right now. This old one is all I need. Etta was the one who gave it to me back when we first got married. I don’t see myself wearing another. It was a good birthday present though. Maybe I’ll give it back to him on his birthday.  Overall was a good birthday.  Hope I get to see eighty-eight.

-Cecil Alfa Brown.

***

06/05/2017

Caroline told me to pick a moment I remember and to write about it.  I cannot just choose one moment to start talking about, but I think that is what she wanted me to do. So, if I had to choose a day to start on it would probably be when Etta passed away. Excuse me if I do not fully remember whereabouts I was during the call I received. I do not remember what the doctor told me exactly. However, I do recall turning to Caroline, who was there with me at the time, and staring at her in shock. Now I had friends, but Etta was more than a friend. In my old age she made every day easy to remember. She was the source of my joy and center of my heart. She was like a sweet song every day. Losing her may have been the day I started losing the memories of everything else. Everything but her. The day I lose the image of my wife is the day I hope the good Lord calls me home. Losing Etta was the hardest thing that has ever happened to me. Hearing it on the phone was hard but what was harder was being at the funeral with all the friends and family that came. I never liked being sad or upset at the world. I thought it would be easy to cry and let out my feelings. Sitting there next to family, I didn’t feel like crying. I wanted to be strong and make this sad day into a brighter one. But I was unable for the first time in my life. It was a sad day. One I hope to not forget.

It was not until after I had gotten home, and everyone left, that I was alone. I had begun to cry and for the first time I can remember I felt that it was okay to cry. My whole life I was told to be strong and to not show emotion. I finally accepted that it was much needed. Etta would have joked about me being a big baby and that she’d see me in heaven. I miss Etta more and more every day. I miss the way she would paint the wonder of God’s creation. Or the sound of the cello echoing through the halls of our home. I miss the morning devotions we would do together proceeded by the daily news. Thinking about her makes my mind fill with joy as my heart sinks into my chest at the thought of not having her anymore. Even though I feel the sense of loss, I still feel I must be strong for her friends and family. That’s why I never really bring up my feelings around them as much anymore. Although I miss her, I know that someday soon I will find her in heaven, and we can dance in the joy of God together. That is if I remember her when I get up there. What am I talking about? Of course, I’ll remember it’s heaven.

-Cecil Alfa Brown.

***

10/09/2017

Today the mailman came up to the door and asked to come in. He seemed friendly, and he brought coffee, so of course I said yes. We sat at the table in the kitchen and talked. Got to know him pretty well.  I think his name was Phillip Thomas. I was a little shocked that he had time in his busy day to chat with a stranger. I quite enjoyed it when he came by although it was strange at the end he began to cry for some reason. Something about this being the last time he will be by to bring coffee. I guess he is not delivering mail anymore. Might be for the best. He looks to be getting up there in age. Plus, he doesn’t even dress like a mailman. He wears joggers and sandals. I wish he could come by again. It was nice to talk about life with someone. My nurse has been running a little late the last couple days. She caught me trying to get them mail from the mailbox. She yells at me for thinking I can do it myself. It’s only a short walk out to the box. Plus, I have a ramp.

She keeps bringing paperwork with her and is always on the phone. I overheard the voice say something like, “You got the job. You start next fall.” I wonder who my new nurse will be when she heads to her new job. Maybe the mail man can stop by if he’s up for it and be my new nurse? That would be fun.

-Cecil Alfa Brown.

***

12/13/2017

I fell today. Slipped on the ice outside my door. I was going to the mailbox to get the mail because my nurse was running late. I was laying out there for what seemed like an hour. She finally drove up and found me on the sidewalk. Good thing I had my coat on. When we got inside, she yelled at me like always, telling me I could have died out there. I won’t die until God tells me I can. Whenever that is I’ll be ready. I should rephrase that. I’m ready to see Jesus and Etta. I’m not ready to see the family this year for Christmas, that’s for sure. When they get here it’ll be sadness this and crying that. I don’t even have much family. It was all on her side anyway. I understand though. Every day is hard without her, but this isn’t even the first Christmas without Etta. That was last year.

-Cecil Alfa Brown.

***

02/22/18

I had this thought just now and my nurse was telling me to write it in my letters.

I totally forgot about my letters. She brought her son with her today. I had that sweet boy read one of them to me. He looks like he plays football. Got strong shoulders and long arms. Says he doesn’t play but I think he enjoys playing the guitar. I should probably watch a game or two I’m sure it will be on the TV tonight. Maybe he can come over and watch it with me. I never did that when I was a kid. Probably why I was so bad at the game. I was just another body out on the field. I don’t think my dad even liked football while I was growing up. I want to say he only liked baseball. I think he was a fan of the Colorado Rockies. That is why Etta gave me a Rockies hat for a gift. That was the only team she knew of at the time.

My thought today! Was about if my nurse should get a different job. Starts in August. It could be good for her. I hope she takes it. She has not stopped talking about it and for the life of me I can not remember what the job is. I want to remember but can’t. She seems to really want it.  The only problem is caring for me is a full-time job. So, she says. I say just put me in a home.  Call it that. It’s not like anyone comes to visit me anyway. I don’t have many friends in the world. They are either dead or about to die. Those are the perks of living longer than your friends. You get to be the last one. Never be the last one.

-Cecil Alfa Brown.

***

05/06/2018

Today is Etta’s birthday. She would be turning eighty-three today. I know exactly what she would have wanted to do. She would go for a walk up the hill next to our house. Probably praying the whole way. Once at the top she would sit down overlooking the town and finish the prayer by thanking God for everything she sees. As she gets back, she would drink some tea while we read the news. After that almost like clockwork, she would head into her studio and paint the masterpiece that was in her mind all morning. It would then be off to lunch with Caroline, then sitting around and watching her favorite movies. Most likely hallmark.  It would be in those moments that I got to see the brightness in her cheeks envy the stars in the sky. That is what a good day is like.

-Cecil Alfa Brown.

***

05/07/2018

I messed up yesterday. Today is Etta’s birthday. I almost forgot about it. But thankfully my nurse reminded me. She said she was going to be out of town today, so she couldn’t come and celebrate with me.  But she called me and reminded me to write my letters and even told me that my dinner is in the fridge. I am not going to eat it because it probably is half salad and half some organic meat thing. I’ll just make some waffles in the toaster.

I sat at my desk and stared into the black screen of the T.V. just thinking of Etta. I can still remember the way her hair would shine in the light. From the way she loved painting in her studio to spending time playing the guitar. No. No. Not the guitar. Someone else plays that. Etta played a different instrument. What that is I can’t recall. I remember it had strings and you had to sit to play it.

She loved life and everything it had to offer. I think that’s why my mind is easy when I think of her. Even now I can write pages about her. She is the only thing left in this old washed-up mind of mine. I just want her to be the last thing on my mind before I go. That’s why I keep pictures on my nightstand and my desk. Just in case.

-Cecil Alfa Brown.

***

05/22/2018

My nurse gave me this pen and paper and said to start writing. She seemed in a rush. Like she needed to use the restroom. She keeps talking about how I should write about tomorrow. I know tomorrow is an important day but I don’t recall what is so special about it.

She is running around with paper and scissors. It might be someone’s birthday because I smell something baking. I don’t think it is her birthday and mine is next month. She put some kid in charge of blowing up balloons. He is doing a good job, but I keep trying to make him laugh so he can’t blow them up.

-Cecil Alfa Brown.

***

07/30/2018

Dear Caroline,

Thank you for watching out for me. Please take your caring and loving heart to the world when I’m gone. Shape the children of tomorrow into the same kind and beautiful soul I have come to love inside you. Don’t grow weary or tired and instead shine in the light that I know you walk in each and every day. You have become the daughter I always wanted. Thank you for sharing a part of your life with me. I love you.

Dear Etta,

My dear wife. I love you. I will see you soon. I can’t wait to be with you dancing in the presence of God.

With Love and Joy for the new life I will
have with Christ your loving husband
Cecil Alfa Brown.

Caroline stopped and sat the papers down on the table. She stared into the crowd, tears flooding her eyes as she reached for a tissue and with one slow wipe across her face, she spoke.

“I started to have him write these letters with hope that others could remember him just as much as I will. Most of you knew Cecil Brown as a man who always was truthful and loving. Who could brighten your day with a joke or outtalk you in every conversation. Others knew him through Etta Rowe Brown. They were inseparable, so if you saw one you would see both. No matter what age we met Cecil at, he always made you feel like a kid again. I will always love and miss him. And I know he is dancing with Jesus in the golden streets.”


Photo by Rob Laughter on Unsplash

CategoriesShort Fiction
Kaleb McMunn

Kaleb McMunn was born in a small mountain town in the United States where he stayed until he went to college for a journalism degree. He graduated from a small school named Evangel University. Kaleb is new to writing, only having very few works published.