Come to Me Quietly

Aly’s heart hurt. It’d been hurting for days, but seeing him like this was killing her. Only once had her mom allowed her to go with her to the hospital to visit him. The entire time Jared had pretended to be asleep, as if he didn’t know they were there. But Aly knew… She’d seen the flicker of his lids and the awareness in the twitch of his fingers.

What she’d expected today, she didn’t know. Crying, she guessed. That she would witness him mourn the way he should because Aly couldn’t imagine anything more horrible than losing your mother. She wanted to reach out, to touch him and tell him it was okay and that no one would blame him for grieving.

She wanted to tell him it wasn’t his fault.

But he just sat there, staring directly ahead as if he had some sort of detached fascination with the large spray of red roses blanketing the top of the white casket. Around it, pictures were arranged on easels: a picture of Helene as a little girl, one in her cap and gown, dancing with Neil on her wedding day, her face filled with absolute joy as she held her newborn baby boy, the last a recent family picture of the four of them. But Jared’s attention never strayed.

Maybe it was wrong that Aly noticed, that she was so aware of every move he made.

Helene’s sister, Cindy, rose and slowly approached the podium that had been set up to the left of the casket. Cindy sniffled and dabbed under her eyes with a tissue. “If you’re here today it’s because you had the great honor of knowing my little sister, Helene. I’m sure you’d all agree with me that she was the one of the kindest, most genuine people you’d ever meet.” A low murmur of agreement rippled through the crowd. “She couldn’t walk in a room without making everyone else smile just because her joy was so infectious.”

She wet her lips, then continued. “My sister was the definition of warmth. Beautiful. Unforgettable. She cared so deeply for everyone. But her family was the most important thing in her world.” Cindy looked directly upon the front row. “Neil, Jared, Courtney… she loved you all so very much. I don’t want you to ever forget that. I’m going to keep those memories of her close to my heart, and I hope you’re able to do the same.” She covered her mouth with her hand, her eyes pressed tight. She could barely continue to speak. “Thank you, everyone, for being here, for celebrating my sister’s life. No doubt she is watching over us now, thankful each of you is here.”

She stepped down and the minister took her place. He led them in a prayer. A somber and final “Amen” rolled over the gathering.

The casket was slowly lowered into the ground.

Aly’s mom whimpered.

This time Aly was the first to squeeze her mother’s hand. Her mom was hurting, and she wanted her to know that she understood. Helene had been her best friend, as close to her as a sister. Aly would never forget the way Helene’s warm laughter had constantly filled their house, the lilt of her quiet but strong voice, the way her kind eyes had watched and loved and encouraged.

Aly was going to miss her, too.

Once the coffin was fully lowered, the minister made an announcement that all could come forward to the grave to give their final respects. Afterward they were all invited to a reception taking place at the Moore home.

Jared’s grandfather helped Neil to stand, stayed at his side as he lumbered over the hard ground. He took a single, long-stemmed rose from a basket and dropped it into his wife’s grave. For a few minutes, he just stood there, staring, lost in the bleakness of finality, of what could never be taken back, never recovered, never regained.

She tried to hold it in, but a soft sob escaped from Aly’s throat. She caught a glimpse of Neil’s face when he turned around. The man had forever worn an affable smile, and now Aly wondered if he’d ever smile again.

The rest of the front row stood to pay their respects, all except for Jared, who didn’t so much as flinch. People cried as they approached the grave. Each one dropped a rose to the top of Helene’s casket and said a last good-bye.

Aly followed her mother and father out, took her own rose, and tossed the flower into Helene’s open grave. With her eyes shut tight, she murmured toward the ground, though she was speaking toward the heavens. “I’ll miss you so much, Helene.” Wiping her eyes, she stood aside and watched as the sea of black made its way by the grave that would permanently mark Helene’s death.

The entire crowd made their pass, before they scattered out to gather in groups where people wept and hugged and comforted each other.