They weren’t his words. He memorized the words from a Twentieth Century essay about the Civil War in America. At his brother’s funeral, he stood at the podium and spoke. His words, the ones that were not his words, made the church congregation cry more tears. His father always a stern and unemotional man walked out between the arms of two older family cousins. He could have never made it down the church isle alone and without help. Later, Ronald would feel more sorrow about the words stolen from the essay than he would feel about his brother’s death. He wouldn’t feel the hurt of his brother’s death until six months later. He felt badly because his brother had been the one who taught him about honesty. Never say another person’s words without giving credit to the true author. Again, he failed to live up to his brother’s example. He thought about going over to his father’s house to talk to his brother. Ask him why he always failed. Tell him he was sorry. It was then he broke down. Fell to the floor on his knees. His brother was gone. He was no longer sitting at the kitchen table waiting to talk to any person who walked in for a glass of water. He was permanently gone. Ronald wondered where would he go for advice. Who could he trust? Who had ever loved him like Dent?
6.17.2014 Journal Prompt