The Loved One

September 24, 2010
How could this have happened? I can’t believe they didn’t tell me. I only knew him through stories my mother told me, which is not a lot. “He was an amazing person and did many great things,” my mom always said. They must have been really in love before I was born. This wouldn’t have happened if I wasn’t born though, it would have never happened like this. I hate how the worst things always happen to me. He lived a long life, I know that.

The best story that I have ever heard came from my mother about my father. This story was about the famous Paul Revere asking my father to hang the lanterns in the Old North Church. Many people don’t realize that if my father had not been there, this would have turned out to be a whole lot different. He was 50 when he hung those lanterns. Not many people even know my father’s name, Robert Newman. They don’t think about what could’ve happened without him.

I do know that my father was 60 when he died; I am 13, still a lad. I wish I could have met him, I really do. It just seems that, even though 60 years is a long time, we don’t have long enough lives. The time is slowly coming to finally see my father. The driver says that we only have about five minutes before we get there.
Five minutes seems like an eternity when you are in a situation like the one I am in. I finally get to see him, but it is still not the way I wanted to see him. That rock, that gravestone tells so much right now. I would have never that it would tell this much. He was such a hero. Why do bad things always happen to good people, isn’t it just wrong, or what?
A misty haze is hanging like a damp blanket over the burial ground. Weather like this really depresses me. Listening to the minister preach about him, I hear that he was shot. Apparently, it was not quick and his friends tried to help him, but they couldn’t do it. He died there in their arms. I wish that this wouldn’t have happened to him. Just one more day, and I would have seen him. I had found him, but he died before I could get to see him. I just feel so sad; I could drown myself in the tears that are pouring out of me. I was on my way to his house. I am so angry now, and it will take a long time before I can get over this. All I hear is crying and despair.
My wife came with me to give me support. She says that we should go, but I want to spend time with him first. She did say that we should think about living here, and I agree with her. This would give me a chance to be with my father every day. My wife said that I should feel so proud that I am like him; she is actually the one who found my father. I felt so proud that I am her husband.
I am telling myself not to cry, its okay, everything’s all right; it is not working. It is like I just opened the gates of the St. Lawrence River and it is just drowning all of my energy from me. I am getting really tired, the more I think of this. I think I am going to fall asleep, if I can, to feel better. That is not likely though.
Copp’s Hill Burial Ground is now a public landmark in Boston, Massachusetts. It has the graves of some very important people there; Robert Newman is an example of this. It is no longer used as a gravesite but it is a very important place along the Freedom Trail. We hope that you come and visit and see these graves. The admission is free, and the memories are great.

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