muses_w_remotes | 7.11.
7.11. "If I could go back in time and change everything back, I would!"
| Josie and the Pussycats
[Follows THIS]
CAMPBELL, James
Tragically taken from us 11/11/2008, the late James Campbell of the Upper East Side, beloved son of Simon and Marion, younger brother of Mark, and much loved friend of Isabel and Alicia. You were taken before we could say goodbye. We love you and will miss you so very much. Our darling, James. Forever in our hearts.
A memorial service for James will be held at the Park Avenue Christian Church on Friday, November 14 at 11am. James’ family request donations to Child Find of America and Compassionate Friends charities in lieu of flowers.
* * * * *
To die in the line of duty as an FBI Special Agent meant that it was impossible for your memorial service to be an intimate occasion. Ali tried to focus on her brother’s hand clutched protectively around hers as Amazing Grace on the bagpipes echoed through the large church that was packed to the rafters with not only FBI agents from the New York Headquarters, but all over including from the American Consulate in Australia. If the occasion wasn’t so somber with the shock of James’ death thrumming through the whole crowd, it might have been an interesting game of ‘Spot James family and friends’, like some sort of fucked up version of Where’s Waldo.
But there was no casket draped in the American flag. A large photo of James stood instead where a coffin should be, both the American and Australian flags slung over edges of the ornate frame. There couldn’t be a casket without a body, could there? The memorial service had been long, with many people wishing to say something on behalf of their lost friend or colleague. Ali had managed to hold her emotions behind a blank, numb mask for most of the service, but there was no holding back when James’ family stood up together with Mark speaking for the three of them. He hadn’t even looked at Ali, indeed his eyes had been trained down to the floor through his whole eulogy, with his hand resting on the frame of the photo. Ali’s tears had spilled over like a waterfall then. She knew as she watched her one love speak for his beloved brother that both men were lost to her now. It really was the end. James was dead, and there was no going back.
Izzy’s absence was like a blank, gaping and painful hole in Ali’s heart. Losing James and Mark had sliced through her heart so deeply, but then to hear Izzy was gone too had dragged her into such a despair she wasn’t sure she could pull herself out of. Izzy faced such an horrific emotional battle in the wake of the news that James had been killed that she had been able to do nothing but run away, like she always did. It’s how she coped, and this time, she had to run as far away as she could. News came that Izzy had resigned from the FBI no more than two hours after news of James’ death had reached HQ. Ali received a text message - one single text message - from her friend saying she loved her but she couldn’t stay without James. He had been her whole world, and now he was gone. A promise she would be in touch with Ali again one day ended the blocky text on the tiny cell phone screen and any following attempts by Ali to call her had gone unanswered. Ali had sat on the balcony of her apartment on the cold, fall day and just wept for hours on end; for James, for Mark, for Izzy, for herself, but most of all, for her unborn baby that would now grow up without a father or the promised love of a wonderful aunt and uncle.
Thoughts jumping back to the lonely afternoon caught a sob in Ali’s throat and she buried her face into the handful of tissues she’d been cradling between her fingers. Her tears were drowned out by the melody of the bagpipes, but the sad tune reached into her heart and tickled at the most tender and painful parts of it. James’ family were the first to stand and leave, walking slowly down the aisle of the church with their arms wrapped securely around each other for support. Their faces were wet and their eyes red from crying that probably felt like it would never ease. Everyone rose in respect, and Ali’s younger brother, Max, had to help her out of her seat and hold her up. She was grateful. She didn’t have any strength left within in her. She wanted to go back in time and change everything so James didn’t go to Australia. She didn’t know if she would ever be happy again. She didn’t know what came next, she only knew she couldn’t give up because she was going to be a mother. She couldn’t be weak.
Max’s arms were still cocooned around her when Mark paused at Ali’s pew. Ali couldn’t even stop crying to be able to completely meet his eyes. He took both of her hands into his and brought them to his lips to kiss them. His own tears were dripping down his cheeks, face so like his younger brother that to just look at him sent the ache of loss throbbing all over again. He leaned in and pressed a kiss to her cheek, then his tearful voice whispered hoarsely in her ear, “I love you, but I have to go...” He took a step back and then pressed a crisp white envelope into Ali’s palm. His wet gaze held hers for no longer than a few beats before he turned back to take his mother’s hand and they continued their long walk away from what was the last goodbye to their loved son and brother.
agentcampbell & isabelowens used with permission
Word Count | 977
| Josie and the Pussycats
[Follows THIS]
CAMPBELL, James
Tragically taken from us 11/11/2008, the late James Campbell of the Upper East Side, beloved son of Simon and Marion, younger brother of Mark, and much loved friend of Isabel and Alicia. You were taken before we could say goodbye. We love you and will miss you so very much. Our darling, James. Forever in our hearts.
A memorial service for James will be held at the Park Avenue Christian Church on Friday, November 14 at 11am. James’ family request donations to Child Find of America and Compassionate Friends charities in lieu of flowers.
* * * * *
To die in the line of duty as an FBI Special Agent meant that it was impossible for your memorial service to be an intimate occasion. Ali tried to focus on her brother’s hand clutched protectively around hers as Amazing Grace on the bagpipes echoed through the large church that was packed to the rafters with not only FBI agents from the New York Headquarters, but all over including from the American Consulate in Australia. If the occasion wasn’t so somber with the shock of James’ death thrumming through the whole crowd, it might have been an interesting game of ‘Spot James family and friends’, like some sort of fucked up version of Where’s Waldo.
But there was no casket draped in the American flag. A large photo of James stood instead where a coffin should be, both the American and Australian flags slung over edges of the ornate frame. There couldn’t be a casket without a body, could there? The memorial service had been long, with many people wishing to say something on behalf of their lost friend or colleague. Ali had managed to hold her emotions behind a blank, numb mask for most of the service, but there was no holding back when James’ family stood up together with Mark speaking for the three of them. He hadn’t even looked at Ali, indeed his eyes had been trained down to the floor through his whole eulogy, with his hand resting on the frame of the photo. Ali’s tears had spilled over like a waterfall then. She knew as she watched her one love speak for his beloved brother that both men were lost to her now. It really was the end. James was dead, and there was no going back.
Izzy’s absence was like a blank, gaping and painful hole in Ali’s heart. Losing James and Mark had sliced through her heart so deeply, but then to hear Izzy was gone too had dragged her into such a despair she wasn’t sure she could pull herself out of. Izzy faced such an horrific emotional battle in the wake of the news that James had been killed that she had been able to do nothing but run away, like she always did. It’s how she coped, and this time, she had to run as far away as she could. News came that Izzy had resigned from the FBI no more than two hours after news of James’ death had reached HQ. Ali received a text message - one single text message - from her friend saying she loved her but she couldn’t stay without James. He had been her whole world, and now he was gone. A promise she would be in touch with Ali again one day ended the blocky text on the tiny cell phone screen and any following attempts by Ali to call her had gone unanswered. Ali had sat on the balcony of her apartment on the cold, fall day and just wept for hours on end; for James, for Mark, for Izzy, for herself, but most of all, for her unborn baby that would now grow up without a father or the promised love of a wonderful aunt and uncle.
Thoughts jumping back to the lonely afternoon caught a sob in Ali’s throat and she buried her face into the handful of tissues she’d been cradling between her fingers. Her tears were drowned out by the melody of the bagpipes, but the sad tune reached into her heart and tickled at the most tender and painful parts of it. James’ family were the first to stand and leave, walking slowly down the aisle of the church with their arms wrapped securely around each other for support. Their faces were wet and their eyes red from crying that probably felt like it would never ease. Everyone rose in respect, and Ali’s younger brother, Max, had to help her out of her seat and hold her up. She was grateful. She didn’t have any strength left within in her. She wanted to go back in time and change everything so James didn’t go to Australia. She didn’t know if she would ever be happy again. She didn’t know what came next, she only knew she couldn’t give up because she was going to be a mother. She couldn’t be weak.
Max’s arms were still cocooned around her when Mark paused at Ali’s pew. Ali couldn’t even stop crying to be able to completely meet his eyes. He took both of her hands into his and brought them to his lips to kiss them. His own tears were dripping down his cheeks, face so like his younger brother that to just look at him sent the ache of loss throbbing all over again. He leaned in and pressed a kiss to her cheek, then his tearful voice whispered hoarsely in her ear, “I love you, but I have to go...” He took a step back and then pressed a crisp white envelope into Ali’s palm. His wet gaze held hers for no longer than a few beats before he turned back to take his mother’s hand and they continued their long walk away from what was the last goodbye to their loved son and brother.
agentcampbell & isabelowens used with permission
Word Count | 977