Unexpected Arrivals(58)
Sitting in the pew of the mostly empty church, I tuned out the minister giving the service in favor of remembering the last conversation I’d had with my mom. I had told her Dottie confessed about my dad, and that I loved her for thinking I was special enough to endure the hard times alone. I also made sure she knew I held no ill will for her decision to keep it a secret. I refused to let her think she would carry that to the grave. It might not have given her any peace because she might not have even been aware of what I said, although I felt lighter with her secret out in the open.
“Chuck Plahniuk once said, ‘The unreal is more power than real, because nothing is as perfect as you can imagine it, because it’s only intangible concepts, beliefs, fantasies that last. Stone crumbles, wood rots. People, well they die. But things as fragile as thought, a dream, a legend, they can go on and on.’ Janie Airy will go on forever as a legend in the legacy she left. I’ve never met a woman more dedicated to a cause than Janie was to finding a cure for Huntingtons, and in the fight, she touched so many people that her memory will live in the hearts of others for generations to come.”
I recognized the man from the Huntington Foundation. My mom had done fundraising for them most of my life. He was as old as Methuselah, yet he’d known her well. It was nice to think he believed my mother was a legend that would stand the test of time, one as powerful as a dream and as fragile as a thought. I had missed his taking the podium and the preacher stepping down, but I was glad I’d heard that if nothing else.
The music played, and the twenty or so people who’d attended the funeral in Tampa made their way to her graveside. There were more flowers than I could think of what to do with from out-of-state mourners who were unable to attend. However, their sentiment wasn’t lost. The volume of beautiful blooms surrounding her casket and her grave were reminders that my mom had been well-loved. Dottie and I had received countless cards where hundreds of thousands of dollars had been donated to the Huntington Foundation in her memory. She would have been elated that not only had her life brought meaning to those who suffered, but in her death, she’d made one final contribution.
I was numb to it all. I’d shed so many tears over the last year that I almost felt relief it was over, that she wasn’t in pain anymore, and she no longer had to endure in a body that gave out long ago. My face was the only one that was dry next to the gravesite, though no one commented on my lack of a breakdown. It would come, I was sure of it—most likely when I felt safe knowing that no one would witness my final goodbye.
After everyone departed, Dottie waited in the car while I watched them lower her casket into the ground. There was no music playing, no words spoken, just a silent exodus from the earth. When the first shovelful of dirt hit the wood, I couldn’t bear the sound, the hollow thud, knowing my mother was underneath. And I turned and fled.
Once back in the car, I took the passenger seat. I was in no shape to drive. My hands hadn’t stopped shaking since Dottie came into my room, and I felt like I was in a continuous state of confusion. Although, Dottie assured me it was natural to feel so disorientated after losing a loved one. My attempt to steady my fingers by placing them over my belly worked for the time being, but probably only because I fell asleep.
“Sweetheart.” Dottie’s hand patted my leg and gave it a gentle squeeze. “We’re home. Let’s go inside.”
My eyes fluttered open only to realize it hadn’t been a dream. And every day from now on, I’d wake up as an orphan.
I just sat there and stared through the windshield at the sky changing colors as the sun set, wondering if it would get any easier. My mind struggled to process that she was really gone and not still lying in a hospital bed in Tampa. It had been ages since she’d had an active part in my daily life, but I struggled to let go of the notion that I could go see her tomorrow.
Stretching my legs in front of me, I reached for the handle to open the door. Yet when I went to get out, the tingles in my limbs left my legs more like Jell-O than something sturdy enough to walk on. And before I could sit back down or steady myself on the door, I stumbled to the ground, landing on my side.
“Chelsea? Are you all right?” Instantly, Dottie was by my side to help me up.
“Yeah, my legs were asleep. I’ll be okay.” I pushed myself off the ground, thankful I hadn’t landed on my stomach, and dusted myself off. My bruised ego was nothing compared to my broken heart.
“Come on, I’ll make us some coffee.” She linked her arm with mine to escort me inside without making me feel like she was coddling me.
“I’m really beat, Dottie. I think I’m going to lie down.” I didn’t mention that I was going to call Carp. She still didn’t know his name, and I had no interest in revisiting that argument. It had been a long day, and I wanted nothing more than to say hello and then sink into the comfort of my mattress and bury myself in covers.
***
“Tomorrow’s the big day, huh?” I hadn’t made the phone call to Carp the night of my mom’s funeral. I couldn’t bring myself to dial because I couldn’t bear for him to ask how things had gone.
“Yeah, I leave in less than eight hours. I’ve got to be at JFK at oh-dark-thirty.”
“I should let you go so you can get some sleep.”
“I can talk for a bit. I doubt I’ll sleep anyhow.”
I went through the checklist of things he needed to remember…like I was his mother instead of some strange cell phone pen pal he’d picked up at his father’s birthday party. “The ring. If you don’t remember anything other than the ring and your passport, you’ll be fine.”