“She really was a wonderful lady. Everyone loved her. She did so much for the community over the years. Between running the library and helping out so much with the church, she must’ve touched the lives of every person in town.”
Stirring movement at the edge of the crowd indicates to everyone that the doors are open. I joined the gentle moving herd and became part of the long line of people ahead of my parents. Gradually, the procession moved forward, and I stepped in between the worship hall’s furthest pews.
We moved closer as the line ahead thinned and dispersed to find seats after paying their respects to the family.
Looking forward, I saw him. I saw Ryan. Before I could consider the uptick in my pulse, the older couple in front of me turned around.
“Harley, dear, I didn’t even realize that was you.” Mrs. Crawford spoke with a friendly but pitying expression. “Are your mother and father here, too? I don’t see them.”
I forced a smile, urging my eyes to remain respectfully on hers. “Yes, ma'am. They should be back there somewhere.”
“Oh, good. I’m glad.” She shuffled sideways a little and tried to squint behind me. “You’ll have to forgive me, dear - my eyes aren’t quite what they used to be. Although… I suppose I can wait to say hello to your mother until the wake.”
I kept my smile as long as I had to, patiently waiting for her to lose interest and turn back around. My portrayal of politeness faltered as the older woman continued speaking. I realized that I might have to wait a lot longer than I expected.
I let Mrs. Crawford ramble on, cautiously keeping watch to see if she would take notice as I started to slowly slide sideways. She was happy just to hear her own voice, apparently not needing any kind of confirmation that I was listening. Careful not to ruin my chance, I let my attention stray back to the quandary of my ex-boyfriend.
Leaning over one of the pews bordering the aisle, I found Ryan at the front of the crowd. My heart skipped several beats in sequence as I automatically realized how good he looked. I watched him nervously, realizing that he didn’t seem to be any different than the days before he left me standing in the park.
At the same time, I could still feel the heartache, even after all those years.
Ryan
“Mr. Allen, thank you for coming.”
“Ryan, I’m very sorry for your loss.”
“Julia, Jack, it’s good to see you. Thanks for being here.”
“Our condolences, Ryan.”
I made my best effort to smile as each person filed by. I knew they just wanted to shake hands and offer consolation, but it was overwhelming for me to be suddenly surrounded by so many faces I forgot existed.
Guilt combined with the strangeness as I glanced at my mother’s casket. It had been eight years since I graduated from high school and left for college. In all that time, I only came home for a handful of occasions and never for more than a few days in a row.
“Mrs. Lawson, hello.”
“Your mother was an amazing woman. She will certainly be missed.”
“Yes, she was. Thank you, Mrs. Lawson.”
I barely registered the old woman’s bony hug before it was on to the next person in line. Behind each man, woman, or child stood another, then another and another. The swarm stretched up the worship hall’s central aisle and continued through the sanctuary doors, farther than I could see.
I could feel myself panicking amid my emotions. I glanced at my brother behind me, and he got the hint.
Hollis stepped forward and took my place as the family’s representative, nominated by tradition to accept the throng of well-wishers. I gratefully surrendered the role, retreating to stand in support with Andy as graciously as I could. Doing so was more difficult than I would’ve thought since I realized the irony of the action: I had just asked the second-born child of my mother and father to administer my duties as the eldest son, a position he had already been filling for close to a decade, thanks to my absence. I never asked him if he was willing, but he accepted the responsibilities, which were rightfully mine, without complaint.
My self-administered guilt, already magnified by my mother’s death, drew me to even greater depths as I fathomed my previously unconsidered audacity.
I watched him shaking hands, and I recognized the familiarity exchanged with each funeral attendee for what it was, a privilege that my decisions had willingly renounced.
I found myself falling into a whirlpool of worry, questioning my life’s choices, and wondering how I could be on the right path with so much pain in consequence.
“I’m surprised you even bothered to show up, seeing as you couldn’t make the time to show your mother she meant anything to you while she was still alive.”
I turned to see my father had joined us. He was the only one in the family that stood as tall as me, but our years of animosity and separation made me feel dwarfed in his presence.
“Dad, I don’t want another fight. Not here. Not now.”
“You see these people? All of them are here to pay their respects to your mother. That’s what they’re here to do. So why are you here, Ryan? Because, as far as I can tell, abandoning the woman who gave birth to you, the woman who raised you and took care of you, doesn’t offer anything that was deserved by her love and sacrifices for you, certainly not respect.”
My blood boiled as his words whispered truth into my heart. “She knew.”
“She knew? Just what, exactly, did she know, Ryan? How could she have known anything when her first son vanishes, preferring damn computers to her happiness? You don’t call or write to her, you don’t care, and you never visited once you became the big businessman in the big city.”
I was glad that I got home in time to say goodbye to my mother before she passed, but this was precisely why I so often avoided contact. I knew he was angry. I knew he didn’t understand my life or the importance of my work. Still, when he wasn’t giving me the silent treatment, my father would relentlessly provoke a confrontation.
Today, of all days, I wasn’t having any part of it. I long ago accepted that he would never forgive me for moving to New York. My father was a simple man, born and bred in the open, rural countryside, and I doubted that he could ever comprehend my company’s purpose in helping people or any other aspect of my life. It would always be a chasm of contention between us, but today I was burying my mother. I would not be goaded into using those feelings of loss to fuel another fruitless debate. Even though he refused to meet my eyes, believing me to be unworthy of even that smallest of acknowledgments, I turned and looked at my father.
“You’re wrong, Dad. I do care. Mom knew I loved her, just like she loved you, Andy, and Hollis. She’s gone, and there’s nothing we can do to change that, but Dad, even now you know that she loved you. She always supported me in the choices I made, and Mom never held it against me that I couldn’t be here more. I know that is something you could never do and, right now, I don’t really give a shit how much you think I don’t care or don’t want to be my father. Right now, I just want to bury my mother. Excuse me.”
I walked back to the chain of neighbors and friends, taking a position alongside Hollis to join in, thanking them for attending the viewing.