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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1484464-A-Woman-Unforgotten
Rated: E · Short Story · Family · #1484464
My mother's funeral and the ensuing day.
                It was a grim morning to be alive. The aroma of all kinds of food items being prepared normally would have signaled some sort of festive holiday or possibly a gathering of relatives just to catch up on things, but this morning was another story entirely. As I lifted myself out of bed trying my best just to face the day, a coldness that shouldn't have been there flowed throughout my entire body. It was a day I would rather soon forget, but sadly I cannot.
         The day was December 30th, 2006. My mother had passed away a few days prior from an accidental overdose of pain medication, and I was not ready to attend the final step of her life. Her funeral was something I had been dreading since the moment I learned she had passed away. I was too numb from shock to honestly understand the immense amount of grief I felt. Sadly no reprieve so simple as that was given to me this day. I walked to my bathroom trying to avoid leaving the refuge of my room entirely. I turned the shower on as hot as i could possibly stand without leaving burns and got in letting the searing water try to cleanse away the grief.
         I got out of the shower a short while later and felt the coolness of the air hit my skin and snap me out of my temporary relaxation. I dried myself off and put on the dress clothes I knew I would have to adorn myself with sometime soon in the day. The stiffness of the somber black attire was fitting to my mood; Unyielding and dark. My thoughts flickered back and forth like a television gone haywire. Flickering between different memory cues of all the times gone by. How sweet and moist her dessert delights had always been when she had prepared them to brighten our day. Her affectionate consoling voice. Her favorite brand of perfume she occasionally wore when the occasion warranted it.
         It was too much. I was in sensory overload even though they were only specters of senses that I would never again experience. I decided to get out of my room after about an hour of this brooding silence. I walked into my grandmother's expansive kitchen and saw food prepared for the funeral. I knew I could not to eat any of it, the lead weight in my stomach left it full enough.
         Before I even had time to notice it was already time to leave the sanctuary of the house to go face what I'd been dreading. We drove for what could've been hours or mere minutes. Time lost it's normal linear track for me. I saw the approaching church and grimaced. It was a small but fitting church with several wings for worship.
         The dark tones and soft sound of the funeral organ were flowing throughout the room. My grandparents and father and I were some of the first people there. In front of the pews and seats there was a large poster with pictures of all the family gatherings and moments of each and every one of our lives she had been a part of. The moment I saw that damned memory ridden construct, was the moment I lost any semblance of strength. My resolve immediately failed as a few cold solitary tears slowly trickled from my eyes.
         The funeral had begun. My uncle was the one leading the funeral as seemed fitting as he was not only my mother's brother, but also a pastor and an extremely compassionate man. He tried, as always, to fill the room with joy even at this most depressing moment of his life. He sprinkled a few light-hearted jokes directed towards little quirks she had in life and eased the mood slightly. A small light of warmth was all I needed to keep from freezing over completely.
         Everyone who was not too emotionally distraught to speak went up and gave their experience of life with my mother. I cannot remember one thing that was said though. I just couldn't think about the present during it. Only the past. After however long, the loud cacophony of voices in the echoing room brought me back to reality.
         I walked down one of the corridors of the church trying to get away from the mass of people heading to a banquet of sorts. I was just not ready for the company of others. I found a Sunday school room unlocked and there I sat in the darkness thinking. The deep silence was comforting in an odd way. I stared at the children's drawings that lined the walls and the various projects made by well meaning children. I tried not to let my thoughts wander to my own siblings as I felt even worse for them than i did for myself.
         I had an epiphany of sorts in that dark room with the distant sounds of laughter and speech in the background. I got up from the undersized chair and walked to the door. I then twisted the knob and walked to where everyone else was seated. I walked over to my younger sister who I could see was also having trouble adjusting to the group of people and gave her a strong reassuring hug. My siblings would need me now and I couldn't spend my life slipping from each agony filled moment to another. I truly grew up that day, regardless of what I thought of myself prior to that.
         The next day was easier. I sometimes think my own subconscious blocked out a lot of the emotions during the following days. To be honest none of the normal emotions one hears of comes to mind after the funeral. Regardless, it was a better day. It just so happened to be New Years Eve and my older brother and I were intent on trying to forgot the previous day's events. I was at first hesitant because I truly did not want to go out in public. Along with that, we had never really been very close. Sure, we got along, but he had always held something back from me. He eventually persuaded me and we left the house at seven o'clock PM sharp. Living in Las Vegas, we had a rather fortunate venue for an evening of enjoyment. Heading to the strip, I made a pledge in my mind that there would be no more grief, only solemn remembrance.
         And so it was. Me, my brother, and his girlfriend all tried to have the best evening possible. We enjoyed the scents and flavors of food being served on the street by vendors trying to seize a holiday opportunity. The blaring sounds of music emanating from the Bellagio fountains while the water jets sprayed into the air leaving a thin mist cooling all of us in the already cold weather. We laughed and we smiled more in that one evening than we had in the previous two weeks.
         Finally it struck midnight as everyone counted down out loud. Twenty thousand screaming inebriated voices chanted simultaneously until the final scream of Happy New year was heard. The three of us just looked at each other and laughed. The barrier that had divided him and I was broken. We all toasted to the memory of my mother and drank one last ceremonial drink before departing to beat the imminent traffic rush. That year may have ended on a bad note, but a new one was commencing on a moment of happiness and love. A new beginning.
© Copyright 2008 Ryan Sundin (ryansundin at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1484464-A-Woman-Unforgotten