realmofthemuse - 6.B.3
A sad anniversary has come, a day that reminds you of something that breaks your heart. How do you spend that day?
OOC: Set in the future, when James goes on his New York trip. Pups are mentioned without permission, but with lots of love. <3
James had purposely sent everyone on wild goose chases around the city so that he'd have some time for himself. Ava was busy talking with Mark and settling things with her apartment. Jeff was working down at his club, and showing Shawn and Gus around parts of the city. He hadn't yet called Pepper to tell her that he'd arrived in New York, and he figured he would do so after he had taken the small trip he'd been secretly planning.
Coming back home, if he could still call it that, was always hard for him. Though he had found a great deal of closure on his last trip, his heart always broke a little when he stepped onto New York soil. It was a reminder of where he was from, where his family was from, and where they all were now. His parents were dead, his aunt was living in Maine, his one surviving grandfather was at the eastern tip of Long Island, his uncle was in Scotland, and he was in California. The city that had once been home to all of them had been abandoned, but James didn't feel too badly. The city was surviving, even with the loss of the Carlisle/MacDuffy clan, something he knew would never change.
Hopping into the rental car, he pulled onto one line of the grid of city streets and began navigating his way to Long Island, like he had done millions of times before. The congestion at mid-day was horrible, and he cursed himself for having not remembered all of the businessmen and women taking their lunch break. It was surreal, driving amongst "his kind" again. The surfers with sun-bleached hair and tanned skin of California were replaced with well-groomed men wearing three-piece suits, throwing their arms up with frustration over the idiots driving ahead of them. James couldn't help but smile at being re-familiarized with the city he'd loved, and would always love for the rest of his life.
Finally breaching the Manhattan city line, he crossed over the Brooklyn bridge and began his trek through Queens. It turned out to be relatively painless, and once he had found himself on Long Island, he exhaled a sigh of relief. He glanced at his watch and tried to calculate the time it would take him to drive out and drive all the way back before anyone noticed his absence for too long. He was driving all the way out to Calverton, which was almost near the end of the Long Island Expressway. He did the math in his head: if he sped all the way there, hovering around 80 MPH, he could reach it in an hour and a half, given that there was no traffic; he could spend twenty minutes there, ten for each person; an hour and a half back and he'd be gone a little more than three hours total. He could meet up with Shawn, Gus, and Jeff as though he never left, and give Ava a call to see how things were going. It would be perfect.
He kept the radio low, not wanting to shatter the somber mood he was entering.
An hour and a half later, he pulled onto the grounds of the Long Island cemetery, feeling the tightness that'd be growing in his chest constrict further. The backs of his eyes stung as he felt them fill with tears, knowing what he'd be face-to-face with in only a matter of minutes. It took him a little longer than he expected to navigate the maze of tomb stones and roads, but finally found the site he wanted.
Turning the car off, he sat in complete silence as he willed his body to move.
"Get out of the car, James," he coached himself, though the unsteady tone of his voice was doing little to encourage. "Get out of the fucking car." With a slow exhale, he opened the door and pushed himself off of the seat, slamming the door behind him. His hands immediately retreated to the pockets of his jeans, and he suddenly felt like he should have dressed better for the occasion. His father always hated it when he went in casual attire to things that required business-like clothing.
And there they were.
Those two headstones which made James lose his breath and gasp as though drowning in the thick air around him.
James William Carlisle, Jr.
August 5, 1949 - April 25, 2001
Devoted husband, father, and son
Marie Anna Carlisle
January 10, 1951 - February 19, 1981
Loving mother and wife, forever remembered in our hearts
He fell to his knees in front of his mother's stone, his eyes now red-rimmed and raw from the tears he was trying to bite back. But it was no use -- the tears came cascading down faster than he could wipe them away. His hand reached out and touched the cold marble, his fingers tracing over the letters that seemed so devoid of love, of emotion, of all of the things his mother deserved. His body crumpled over as the tears transformed into sobs, his forehead resting against the emotionless stone that couldn't embrace him the way his mother used to.
With a gasp, he sat back up abruptly and wiped his tear-stained face. He was done now.
He was going to let it go. He had to let it go.
He leaned over and kissed the top of the headstone gently, and skimmed the tips of his fingers across her name again before standing from his knees. Brushing the grass from them, he dislodged the rock that had formed in his throat and with a passing glance at his father's tombstone, shuffled his way back into the car.
In the silence, he closed his eyes for a moment before starting the car. He pulled out back onto the highway as he began to mutter a prayer in Hebrew, one he had memorized from the age of six. His words were nearly inaudible, except perhaps to those with exceptional hearing, hoping that his mother and father were two of those people:
May His great Name grow exalted and sanctified in the world that He created as He willed. May He give reign to His kingship in your lifetimes and in your days, and in the lifetimes of the entire Family of Israel, swiftly and soon. Now say: Amen. May His great Name be blessed forever and ever. Blessed, praised, glorified, exalted, extolled, mighty, upraised, and lauded be the Name of the Holy One. Blessed is He beyond any blessing and song, praise and consolation that are uttered in the world. Now say: Amen. May there be abundant peace from Heaven, life upon us and upon all Israel. Now say: Amen. He Who makes peace in His heights, may He make peace, upon us and upon all Israel. Now say: Amen.*
*The prayer is the Mourner's Kaddish, a Jewish prayer typically recited at burial and on the anniversary of death for close relatives and loved ones.
James S. Carlisle
Original Character
1147 Words
OOC: Set in the future, when James goes on his New York trip. Pups are mentioned without permission, but with lots of love. <3
James had purposely sent everyone on wild goose chases around the city so that he'd have some time for himself. Ava was busy talking with Mark and settling things with her apartment. Jeff was working down at his club, and showing Shawn and Gus around parts of the city. He hadn't yet called Pepper to tell her that he'd arrived in New York, and he figured he would do so after he had taken the small trip he'd been secretly planning.
Coming back home, if he could still call it that, was always hard for him. Though he had found a great deal of closure on his last trip, his heart always broke a little when he stepped onto New York soil. It was a reminder of where he was from, where his family was from, and where they all were now. His parents were dead, his aunt was living in Maine, his one surviving grandfather was at the eastern tip of Long Island, his uncle was in Scotland, and he was in California. The city that had once been home to all of them had been abandoned, but James didn't feel too badly. The city was surviving, even with the loss of the Carlisle/MacDuffy clan, something he knew would never change.
Hopping into the rental car, he pulled onto one line of the grid of city streets and began navigating his way to Long Island, like he had done millions of times before. The congestion at mid-day was horrible, and he cursed himself for having not remembered all of the businessmen and women taking their lunch break. It was surreal, driving amongst "his kind" again. The surfers with sun-bleached hair and tanned skin of California were replaced with well-groomed men wearing three-piece suits, throwing their arms up with frustration over the idiots driving ahead of them. James couldn't help but smile at being re-familiarized with the city he'd loved, and would always love for the rest of his life.
Finally breaching the Manhattan city line, he crossed over the Brooklyn bridge and began his trek through Queens. It turned out to be relatively painless, and once he had found himself on Long Island, he exhaled a sigh of relief. He glanced at his watch and tried to calculate the time it would take him to drive out and drive all the way back before anyone noticed his absence for too long. He was driving all the way out to Calverton, which was almost near the end of the Long Island Expressway. He did the math in his head: if he sped all the way there, hovering around 80 MPH, he could reach it in an hour and a half, given that there was no traffic; he could spend twenty minutes there, ten for each person; an hour and a half back and he'd be gone a little more than three hours total. He could meet up with Shawn, Gus, and Jeff as though he never left, and give Ava a call to see how things were going. It would be perfect.
He kept the radio low, not wanting to shatter the somber mood he was entering.
An hour and a half later, he pulled onto the grounds of the Long Island cemetery, feeling the tightness that'd be growing in his chest constrict further. The backs of his eyes stung as he felt them fill with tears, knowing what he'd be face-to-face with in only a matter of minutes. It took him a little longer than he expected to navigate the maze of tomb stones and roads, but finally found the site he wanted.
Turning the car off, he sat in complete silence as he willed his body to move.
"Get out of the car, James," he coached himself, though the unsteady tone of his voice was doing little to encourage. "Get out of the fucking car." With a slow exhale, he opened the door and pushed himself off of the seat, slamming the door behind him. His hands immediately retreated to the pockets of his jeans, and he suddenly felt like he should have dressed better for the occasion. His father always hated it when he went in casual attire to things that required business-like clothing.
And there they were.
Those two headstones which made James lose his breath and gasp as though drowning in the thick air around him.
James William Carlisle, Jr.
August 5, 1949 - April 25, 2001
Devoted husband, father, and son
Marie Anna Carlisle
January 10, 1951 - February 19, 1981
Loving mother and wife, forever remembered in our hearts
He fell to his knees in front of his mother's stone, his eyes now red-rimmed and raw from the tears he was trying to bite back. But it was no use -- the tears came cascading down faster than he could wipe them away. His hand reached out and touched the cold marble, his fingers tracing over the letters that seemed so devoid of love, of emotion, of all of the things his mother deserved. His body crumpled over as the tears transformed into sobs, his forehead resting against the emotionless stone that couldn't embrace him the way his mother used to.
With a gasp, he sat back up abruptly and wiped his tear-stained face. He was done now.
He was going to let it go. He had to let it go.
He leaned over and kissed the top of the headstone gently, and skimmed the tips of his fingers across her name again before standing from his knees. Brushing the grass from them, he dislodged the rock that had formed in his throat and with a passing glance at his father's tombstone, shuffled his way back into the car.
In the silence, he closed his eyes for a moment before starting the car. He pulled out back onto the highway as he began to mutter a prayer in Hebrew, one he had memorized from the age of six. His words were nearly inaudible, except perhaps to those with exceptional hearing, hoping that his mother and father were two of those people:
May His great Name grow exalted and sanctified in the world that He created as He willed. May He give reign to His kingship in your lifetimes and in your days, and in the lifetimes of the entire Family of Israel, swiftly and soon. Now say: Amen. May His great Name be blessed forever and ever. Blessed, praised, glorified, exalted, extolled, mighty, upraised, and lauded be the Name of the Holy One. Blessed is He beyond any blessing and song, praise and consolation that are uttered in the world. Now say: Amen. May there be abundant peace from Heaven, life upon us and upon all Israel. Now say: Amen. He Who makes peace in His heights, may He make peace, upon us and upon all Israel. Now say: Amen.*
*The prayer is the Mourner's Kaddish, a Jewish prayer typically recited at burial and on the anniversary of death for close relatives and loved ones.
James S. Carlisle
Original Character
1147 Words