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“Gab, you okay?” Kerry asked as if he sensed my unease.
His hand rested against the small of my back. His touch was comforting to me. I nodded. He guided me to the tent where chairs were lined in two rows of six, one for each of us. A special chair sat off to the side for Pop. Two were empty where Byron and Jack would have sat. It didn’t matter. My nephew should have been here but I could have cared less if Byron was.
I sat between Keegan and Kerry behind my sisters. My husband and my daughter regarded me with odd expressions but didn’t say anything. I knew they were thinking I should have sat in front with my sisters but I couldn’t. I couldn’t be front row center for this event not so close to the casket that contained my mother’s body.
I took several deep, cleansing breaths. Kerry kept observing me intently with so much concern on his beautiful face.
“I’m fine,” I snapped but he and I both knew that I wasn’t.
Maybe I should have viewed her body. Maybe this would then feel more real. Maybe I could have accepted that Yancy was gone. Yancy’s parish priest who had married both Adin and I last month now presided over her funeral service. I noticed Pop’s chair was empty. My head snapped around locating him standing behind us. Head bowed. Solemnly listening, sunglasses in place hiding the emotions I knew he was feeling. The same way I was hiding my pain. The only other person taking this harder than me.
Breathing was increasing.
Heart racing.
I knew exactly how Pop felt.
Out of control and helpless at the same time.
The priest knew my mother well reading passages from the bible in his hand that I knew she loved. I kept staring off into the distance trying not to see the casket trying not to visualize my mother inside if only in my mind’s eye. I tried to slow my breathing hoping my heart rate would slow as well. My hands were shaking hard now.
My sisters sitting in front of me were openly crying. Brad’s arm was draped around Adin’s shoulder while he tried unsuccessfully to comfort her. Wynne sat next to her mother looking shell-shocked while Micki cried wiping her eyes with a handkerchief. Poor Wynnie. She had done so much to help with Nana. Would she be okay? I knew that I wouldn’t.
Gem, I noticed had her head on Troy’s shoulder while she sobbed with grief. I was frantic. My head darted around like on a swivel. This wasn’t happening. I wasn’t ready for this. I hadn’t been able to say goodbye. Damn her. God damn her. She left me without saying goodbye. She wasn’t supposed to do that to me. I wasn’t ready for her to leave.
I could feel the crushing weight on my chest getting heavier by the minute. The tremble in my hands was beyond. Kerry was saying something. I could see his lips moving. Kat had taken my hands in hers but I jerked them away. I had to get away from here. My breathing was so fast and shallow that I was about to hyperventilate. My heart was slamming against my chest so hard I thought it was burst out of my chest.
Standing, I stepped over Kerry’s legs and on his feet while I made my way out of the row of chairs. I was making so much noise. I apologized to Kerry in a choked whisper. He didn’t care. Kerry just tried to steady me as I escaped. The priest stopped talking. Everyone including the priest stared at me while I walked quickly to the SUV. Behind it I stood heaving hyperventilating. Kerry caught up with me.
“Gab, you have to accept this.”
“I can’t breathe,” I gasped.
“Slow down. Breathe deep. That’s it. You’re okay.” He was rubbing my arms up and down speaking to me in soft, comforting tones. “Gab,” he said when my breathing returned to normal. “Come here.” Kerry pulled me into his embrace and held me close.
I held onto the lapels of his jacket with clenched fists but I couldn’t cry. I wanted to scream but not cry. I had no more tears. I wanted Yancy in heaven to hear me scream at her. She should know that this wasn’t fair. She should know that I didn’t want her to be gone. She should know that I was pissed that she left without giving me the chance to say goodbye.
“You need to grieve.”
“I’m too fucking angry,” I declared still holding onto his coat as if he too might slip away if I released him. “I didn’t get to say goodbye.”
Kerry patted my back. “Damn Gabrielle. Would it have been any easier?” He was looking at me with a hard expression. “If anyone understands how hard this is I do but someday you’ll have to face this. It will be easier now than later.”
We stayed this way until my sisters joined us at the cars. They hugged me. They had their opportunities to say goodbye to Yancy before she died and once again at the cemetery. I wasn’t ready to yet.
In the distance, I saw my father standing at the casket by himself one hand resting on the top. Pop wasn’t ready to say goodbye either.
#
Issy and Patrick came to our house that night with Issy’s children. Harriet Mills arrived with their bridge group who had played together for ten years taking turns at each other’s house. The old biddies were pissed that Yancy wouldn’t let them come to her funeral. Most of them hadn’t come to visit her though so I felt little sympathy for them.
I smiled making polite conversation but inside I was raging. I was mad as hell that my mother had died. This irrational response was eating away at
me I knew but I couldn’t shake it. The house felt hot to me even though the air conditioner was running cooling the entire house. Today was still warm for Michigan in September. The heat could come and go. October we could have snow. I stepped outside onto the porch and sat down in the swing. I had to get away from them, from everyone that had invaded Yancy’s house at our invitation.
This was a bad idea, worse than a wake would have been. Inside everyone was sharing stories about what a wonderful person Yancy was. She was ornery. She was high-spirited. She was like no one else. Yancy was vibrant. Stubborn. Crazy. Bat shit crazy we always liked to call her. I grew sick of the stories and the adjectives.
Wynne stepped outside following me. She looked to her left saw me sitting on the porch swing and walked towards me uncertainly.
