Little Eddie Garlock's sorrow

Eddie Garlock at Age nine:

 

My grandfather, E. H. Garlock, lost his mother when he was only nine-years-old.  The following exerpt from "Generations" gives some insight into the grief he suffered the day they buried his mother, Matilda Rust Garlock.

"But there were no tender hands to soothe a little brow, or wipe away a young boy’s tears.  The loss was more than he could bear, and so much harder to endure, for it seemed that not only had he lost his mother, but his father as well.  Just then, as he had passed him, Eddie  reached out to grasp his strong hand, but was brushed away.  Always before that hand reached out to him eagerly, often lifting him high in the air—over his head, and onto his strong shoulders for a special ride.

 

"Sometimes they would jog around the yard, or take a special trip to the stable to look at a brand new foal.  But now those strong hands covered his papa’s face, and his shoulders shook with sobs.  Grandma Garlock put her arm around him and they climbed into the buggy—forgetting young Eddie.

 

"He watched through tear-filled eyes as everyone got into their carriages and buggies, preparing to leave the small cemetery behind the Episcopal church.  Fear suddenly gripped him as he realized that Grandmother and Papa had forgotten him.  They were in the buggy and the driver commanded the horses to “Giddy up”.  Aware then that he was being left, Eddie ran as fast as his spindly legs could carry him. 

"With tears streaming down his face, clouding his vision, he stumbled over the rocks spread on the walkway--falling onto the rough ground.  The palms of his hands and knees stung as they scrapped against the stones.  His left knee was bleeding, and the blood was seeping through his new long stockings.  Remembering his plight, he glanced back toward the grave and then to the disappearing buggy where his father rode.  The lump in his throat seemed too large to allow words to pass through, but he finally found his voice and cried:

 

“Papa, papa, don’t leave me here.”  In desperation he struggled to his feet and ran, crying louder, wanting to be heard over the sound of the horses’ hooves and the wheels of the carriage as they rolled over the stony ground.

And "the rest of the story" is yet to come in the book, "Generations".