With One Sentence

I opened my eyes when the bus came to a halt, a quick peek out the window told me we hadn't reached my stop yet. I sighed, when I get my own vehicle I'll laugh at the bus as I pass it by. No more praying I had made enough tips to cover my bus fare. No more waiting in the rain or in the snow, just getting to where I want to be when I want to get there. I looked at the group of girls getting on, they were the loud giggly type and I couldn't help but roll my eyes. No more gossip girls. I reached for my bag next to me and saw a little black book peaking out from underneath it. It wasn't mine. I looked around seeing if anyone was watching me, everyone was sitting forward. I guess someone left it before I sat down? I shook my head, that was impossible. I always check both seats before I sit down. I've sat myself or my bag in something nasty one too many times. This was definitely not here before. On closer inspection it wasn't anything special. I shook it upside down... nothing fell out, but the sentence on the first page caught my eye.

"Write hard and clear about what hurts." -Ernest Hemingway

"I want whoever is reading this to know that yes, you were meant to find this book. Whether it was fated are I decided that maybe, just maybe you need these words more than I did. I lost someone close to me. I know right? Why is this person starting this out so sad? Bear with me it will be worth it in the end. They struggled with a few demons, family expectations, being true to self, and their own looming cloud of depression. I didn't know at the time that those things were enough to weigh down the lightest heart I had ever know. He knew no strangers, he always left the room in awe. No one had a bad word to say about him. Only words of kindness and gratitude for the warmth he had brought them with just a smile. One light, snuffed out in an instant. I remember it so clearly at times, and in momentary flashes the rest of the time. One moment, one sentence rocked my world, "He's gone." When they write about grief they don't mention the weight of it. They don't mention that the sound of it is deafening. They don't write about how your world crashes down around you, or the guilt of what you could have done chokes the air from your lungs. They tell you there are generally 5 stages of grieving, they don't tell you that the order varies, or that you almost constantly have to redo them every so often."

A drop fell onto the page, bringing me back to the present. I realized that the droplet came from me, I was crying. I wiped some of the tears away and gently wiped the one off the page so I didn't smudge the ink.

"Time does not automatically make things easier, but the growth you allow in the meantime helps you find better was to channel the grief so that you may work through it. Five years later and I am still redoing steps, asking myself did I show him that I loved him enough? Did I say it enough? I have to tell myself that I did, and remind myself that he still loved me anyway even if I forgot sometimes to tell him. I still find myself talking to him about the hard times, somehow it helps me to think that he is still listening just like he used to. I learned a lot from him in life and even after his death. Kindness is free. It does not take much, and even just a little bit can have a greater impact than a grand gesture. One smile, one greeting, one moment can shine light on someone in the deepest darkness, and help them take a step forward. Be the light."

I turned to the last page, there was an address and todays date, "PS purple is a great color."

I closed the book and stared at the cover. This person had managed to make me feel a fraction of what they felt with just their words. I didn't know that words held that much power. The bus slowed to a stop and I realized that it was in front of my street. I shoved the book into my bag and jogged up front.

"Were you sleepin' back there?"

I blinked at the bus driver, "What? No I uh, was just reading and got lost in thought."

"Must have been somethin' really interesting."

"Yea, yea it was. See you next time."

I waved as the doors closed, it was interesting. What was the address? I could go, but it was also pretty sketchy that todays date was in it as well. I pulled it back out and looked at the address again. It was close by, it wouldn't take me long to walk down there. I bit my lip, this could be some sort of plan to get me alone... But what did purple have to do with anything? I snapped it shut and shoved it back in my bag, only one way to find out. I turned down the street and started on my way. As I got closer, I realized that the address had led me to the cemetery. It was still early enough that there were a few people trickling in an out of the gates. I didn't know what I was supposed to be looking for, there wasn't a lot of color that I could see so I just kept walking. After awhile I stopped to sit on a bench, this was stupid I was on a wild goose chase for something or someone that I knew nothing about. I just wanted to meet the person behind the words I guess. I wanted to know that someone who could write that way was actually real.

"Excuse me."

I looked up and locked eyes with a little bent over woman, she was clutching a red handbag in her shaking hands.

"I hate to bother you but would you mind helping an old lady out? I came to visit my husband but it seems that someone has made a mess of his headstone, I can's quite bend down to clean things up." She turned a little bit to the side and I saw a tipped over vase and the bouquet that had been strewn on the ground.

"Sure, I don't mind."

"Oh really? Oh thank you!"

I gathered everything up, and began arranging the flowers back in the vase.

"Thank you so much, you're probably the third person that I've tried to ask. I couldn't even think about leaving Herb's grave like this not on our anniversary."

"How long were you two married?"

I sat the vase down a little closer to the stone so hopefully it wouldn't get knocked over again, and wiped the leaves off.

"We have been married for 65 years," She placed a hand on her face and blushed slightly. "We were the talk of our town for the longest time you know. It all started with a stolen car and a train."

I must have had a crazy look on my face because she laughed, "Such a face, it wasn't all that crazy. Just a normal instance of a boy in love trying to prove something. Are you here to see anyone special?"

"Not really. This may sound odd but I found this book on the bus.. It was written about grief and it had this address in it. I don't know I kinda was hoping for a sign. Things have been pretty rough lately." She was looking at me with this knowing look in her eyes. "I don't know what I expected to find the only clue was the color purple?"

She clapped her hands together, "There is a purple headstone in the lot towards the back! Come on I'll show you."

She hobbled over to the gravel path and took off. We turned a couple of times and then up on a little hill sure enough there was a purple headstone. I knelt down next to it and read the words, "One moment can make all the difference."

"Do you know whos headstone this is?"

She shook her head, "All I know is that he gets lots of visitors. Who ever he is I think he made a great impact on a lot of people."

I brushed the words thinking about the notebook.

"Thank you for helping me with my husband." She was smiling down at me.

I couldn't help but smile back, "Of course. Couldn't leave him in a mess on such an important day."

She laughed, "I hope you find what you're looking for." She patted me on the shoulder and walked away.

I pulled the notebook out and read through it again. I was glad it had led me here. Even if there wasn't some grand finale, it was worth it. I placed the notebook on the stone and walked home. I walked into an empty house and lay on my bed for a moment before I reached for my bag. I noticed a white envelope was sticking out of one of the side pockets. Inside was a handwritten letter and a check for 20,000 dollars.

"Dear reader,

Thank you for returning my notebook. I saw what you did for Mrs. Hale, and I see that you really took to my words to heart. She was in need and you helped her without a second thought. That is what I meant when I said that kindness was free and a little bit can go a long way. You made a hard day just a little bit easier for her. Please put this money to good use. Thank you for reading.

T"