Chapter Thirty-Five
I have the pleasure of seeing Judy’s three children again, although I wish it were under different circumstances. They’ve all traveled from afar to be here for her.
Andrew and his wife are very kind. He’s a handsome middle-aged man who looks a lot like his late father. Julie and Jenna are both the image of a younger Judy. There are a few kids, and about four sullen teenagers milling about; Judy’s grandkids and great-grandkids which she’d never been very close with, distance making it difficult to form bonds. Judy once told me that all her children were too ambitious and too smart for a small town like ours. They needed to explore their possibilities, which led them to faraway places. I found it sad that she was without her children, so I took it upon myself to become her pseudo daughter.
Judy chose a very traditional end-of-life plan, a celebration of life (not a memorial service) she insisted, followed by a traditional funeral in the Catholic church where she occasionally attended mass. Being baptized Catholic myself, I’m ashamed to admit that I’ve never once stepped foot in that church.
She requested that we all wear bright colors for her celebration of life, and so it’s with an aching heart that I pull on my red dress, the one Colton gave me. And the red heels too. Not in a million years, would I have ever imagined wearing them on such an occasion. Christian is wearing a bright checkered shirt and khakis.
“You look… sadorable,” I tell him.
He makes a funny face. “What?”
“Sadorable,” I repeat. “You look both sad and adorable. It’s a new word I just made up.”
He smiles wide, and the sight brings tears to my eyes. It’s his first smile since Judy’s passing. “Remember, Judy didn’t want any sad faces at her celebration of life. It’s supposed to be fun. It’s okay to be happy tonight.”
He pouts. “I’ll try.”
He stands next to me, and stares at our refections in the mirror as I apply my lipstick. “Why do people have to die?”
My heart sinks. God, I wish I knew. I crouch down to his level, and take his hand in mine. “Well, that’s one of the mysteries of life, Christian. Why are we born? Why do we die? It’s science… biology,” I try to explain, and I realize I have no clue what I’m talking about. I don’t have much wisdom to offer at all. “The body gets old and tired from living all those years, and it finally just lets go.”
He pouts, seemingly not too satisfied with my answer.
“But why did Judy have to die?” he asks. “We loved her.”
“Oh…” I say, at a loss for words. “It’s like I said… her body was tired. She had a very long, full life. She had her job as a piano teacher, and her marriage and three children, and all those grandchildren and great-grandchildren. And her heart was just so tired, and couldn’t pump anymore and just gave up.”
His nod is hesitant, as if he’s not sure he wants to accept my explanation. I don’t blame him at all. It is a pitiful explanation.
“Did you know Judy had a great-granddaughter about your age. Her name is Emily and she’s six. You two can play together.”
“Is she the one with the red hair?”
“Yes… the very one,” I tell him. “She seems nice.”
He smiles again, just a hint of a grin, but it’s still something.
* * *
The celebration is taking place at the local hall, and everyone in town seems to be here. Even Cassie is here.
She rushes in for a hug. “I’m so, so sorry, babe.”
I will myself not to cry. I’ve just walked in, and I can’t fall apart already. We’re a bit late because I just didn’t have the strength to get from A to B. Everything is so much harder when you’re grieving. Every task seems unsurmountable. “Thank you,” I say.
The space takes my breath away, so beautiful it brings tears to my eyes. I know Judy would have loved it. There are purple roses everywhere, dozens and dozens of them. Lovely framed photos line the wall, and there’s a table at the far end, filled with food and colorful treats. There’s even a chocolate fruit fondue. The shiny black grand piano is covered with framed photos of Judy and her students. I study them carefully, and search for a photo of Colton.
I spot Julie, and walk up to her and hug her tightly. “You did such a fantastic job,” I tell her. “Your mom would have loved this. I’m sure she’s looking at us from above right now and smiling.”
“Thank you so much, Clara,” she says. “But it wasn’t all me. Andrew and Jenna worked hard too. And the purple roses were courtesy of Colton Rossi… such a nice guy.”
I smile. “Yes… he is.”
She grins playfully. “And not too bad to look at either.”
I smile, probably for the first time in days. “And have you shared these insights with John?”
