| |
By Cathy-Lee Chopping
The day is hot, my suit jacket suddenly feels too tight and I’m feeling light headed. I have to sit down on the empty seat next to Henry. He’s wracked with grief; his face is twisted with pain as he watches the first handful of earth being trickled onto his ex-wife's coffin. It lowers slowly, mourners crying and wailing as they release their emotions to the sky. The scene is sad yet strangely beautiful; Valentine's Day, the red-brown earth against the perfectly tended, deep emerald grass; the blood red roses in contrast with the polished white and gold coffin.
She was his world. It’s written all over his face that he has no idea what he will do without her. The love which had poured from him during the eulogy was incomparable, the brave face slightly robotic. It was obvious it wouldn’t have been from lack of love they had separated.
He squeezed hands with his son, who was only six years old and crying for a mother—he doesn't entirely understand, is gone forever. I hope he remembers her, I know she loved him very much. My heart aches for him growing up without his Mummy. I want to take him up in my arms and hug all the pain away.
Maggie’s mother-in-law did a lovely job on the little boy’s suit, making sure she spent time on the tailoring. I feel warm at the small but beautiful gesture she has given this family in such a sad time. He wipes his eyes and I ache.
My eyes rove around the crowd, seeing family and friends I've not seen in many years—all come to pay their respects. I heard lovely words about Maggie at the service; from how much she loved her family, cared for her friends and neighbours, and how much they would miss her. She was their rock, their first friend, their go-to person for sweet preserves and pickles she made in her warm kitchen over cups of tea with whomever walked through her door. I wonder why they wait to say nice things about people until they're gone. I’ve so many questions for them. Why didn’t they say thank you and how much they loved and appreciated her when she was right there in front of them?
Maggies headstone. It reads “A beloved wife, mother, daughter, sister and friend.” She really was loved.
My gaze turns back to Henry, and I place my hand on his shoulder to comfort him. He places his hand on top of mine and bows his head, pain overtaking his brave facade. I wish I could speak to him, but this isn’t the time.
The coffin has come to rest at the bottom of the grave. I can see the tops of the roses from where I sit. The smell of the rich earth fills my senses and the priest drones on, “Ashes to Ashes...”.
I smile sadly as this is real life. It’s true what they say, no matter the possessions—the car, the job, the house—no matter what you have in your life, be humble because our graves are all the same size.
Friends and family approach Maggies grave, dropping roses down into the darkness. I shudder, hearing the quiet thud of the dirt and the flowers. I feel claustrophobic thinking of all that earth above, and a panic attack threatens.
To calm myself, I think of the person I love most in all this world. Henry.
We met at work when we were much younger, the last two people working the late shift over many evenings and weekends. Casual awkward conversations between customers turning to sweet gestures deep and meaningful. We would walk down to the beach after work and sit on the cool sand, watching the stars and talking late into the night, sometimes not returning home until dawn. I had kissed him first, and the first night we’d spent together was a midnight moonlight beach picnic that had found us waking up together to the high tide lapping at our toes.
As time went on, he eventually fell madly in love with Maggie and married her, his responsibilities changed and he would stay at work longer rather than on the beach with me. When baby Andy came along he’d stay back at work all night.
It was a mad love we had, and I wish I’d been able to make it work with him. He’d been a husband and father and had taken his responsibilities so seriously he’d pushed everyone away whether he meant to or not.
We’d drifted apart slowly as the years ran away, but I never stopped loving him and I hope he knows.
The panic abates and I focus on the gravestone. It's strange how after everything in this life we’re reduced to a piece of granite and a mound in a field. It seems like a bad joke. As the song goes, ironic.
People are starting to wander away, to hug and kiss one another, giving condolences and making plans to catch up—they all know they won't keep, but won't admit to it.
They leave the grieving man and his son, who is holding on to his father’s hand for dear life, terrified he’ll also be lost to him if he lets go.
They said the car accident was not his fault, and Maggie had suffered a brain aneurysm which had led to her car hitting his as she made her way to pick up her son from Henry’s house.
Henry had been running late bringing Andy home from the park, and the accident had happened so quickly. His hands still bear the scratches from the windshield glass in the collision and their sons head was still bandaged. His little face was still bruised and his lip still puffy.
But he was alive, they both were.
But not Maggie.
I stand, still light headed and walk to the edge of the grave. The priest ignores me and watches Henry and Andy with pity in his eyes before turning away. I drop my own flower down into the coffin and wince at the louder than expected thud as it lands. My eyes fixate on the gravestone again, I can't keep my eyes off it.
The words and the name etched into the stone,
IN LOVING MEMORY
OF
MAGGIE MIDDLETON
I shake my head as my eyes start to blur and I turn my attention back to the grieving pair and kneel before them.
Henry stares through me as I place one hand on each of their knees.
Andy meets my gaze and I brush a tiny tear from his cheek.
“You know your Mummy will always be with you, right Andy-Pie?”
Andy nods slightly, not looking away from my pale blue eyes.
“Right in here.” I pat his tiny chest. “You’re loved so very much and will never be alone.”
Andy’s little hand squeezes mine softly.
Henrys eyes are glazed unseeingly with tears but I speak to him anyway, knowing he cannot hear me. “Henry, I love you so much. You know that I do. I’m so sorry to have caused you both so much pain! I wish I could’ve spent more time with you when I had the chance.” My hand caresses his face and he closes his eyes in response, tears sliding down his stubbly cheeks. “Henry...always remember the beach.”
I feel a faint pull on my arm, it’s my mother. I can smell her perfume and I know I’ll go with her in a moment. I place Andy’s hand lightly on Henry’s arm and stand up next to my mother.
Henry turns to Andy and envelops him in a huge hug, both of them grieving together as they should.
Andy whispers “Mummy.”
Henry nods and doesn't let go. “I know she's here buddy, she won't be able to go until we tell her that we’ll be okay.”
It's Valentine’s Day. The day of Love. And I can see it right in front of me. So much love, kindness, sweetness and sadness, all for Andy’s mother and Henry’s once-wife. I feel warmed by it.
Henry stands and leads Andy to the gravestone. He bends and kisses the photo propped next to it and I see for the first time it is a beautiful portrait done at Christmastime. I love that picture.
Her shining blue eyes stood out in her creamy skin and auburn hair.
My mother pulls on my arm again, this time a little more forcefully.
I turn to her and see her looking so young in the afternoon light.
“Just a few more moments.”
She smiles sadly and says we don't have long.
My gaze falls on the grave and I know we have to leave.
Andy hugs the gravestone and my heart breaks.
They turn to look at the grave together, and drop their own roses into it. The thuds are loud and this time I can smell the fresh blooms.
Andy speaks as he crushes his father's hand in his own, and he sounds so grown up.
“Mummy I love you so much. I’ll look after Daddy. I miss you to the moon and back.”
Henry stares down into the grave and another tear rolls down his cheek. “Maggie, I never stopped loving you. I wish we could’ve worked things out in time. I'll miss you forever.”
My heart bursts, I know they loved her more than anything. I'm so sad and I don't want to leave.
My mother clears her throat and I know it's time. Things seem to freeze as I kiss Andy and Henry, ruffling ones hair and stroking the others face.
“I'll see you soon.” I whisper as I turn away, fulfilled with their love.
The last thing I see is Andy and Henry walking away together to the waiting car, as a beam of sunlight bursts through the trees above.
My mother takes my hand and smiles at me. “Are you ready Maggie?”
I smile back. “Yes.”
