Love, Mom

Love, Mom
Word Count: 869

Mom’s funeral was at the Snohomish County cemetery. It wasn’t anything fancy, but that was were Gramps and Gram were laid to rest. Mom had made it clear that she wanted to be buried with her family. The headstones were right out next to each other at the top of a small grassy hill, under some maple trees. I thought it was sweet.

We all gathered at the top of the hill. Being an only child, I felt a moment of loneliness that made my limbs go numb. My mother’s sisters were here, talking quietly amongst themselves. Some of her co-workers and friends were already gathering around her closed casket. They too were talking. I never felt much of a need to know my father, who abandoned us when I was only a couple of years old, but it was times like these that made me weep internally for his presence. I was all alone.

The ceremony began. When the minister spoke of the afterlife my thoughts drifted elsewhere. I could hear what was being said but the words seemed filtered, from a distance. I thought of all the times my Mom had been there for me. When I started Kindergarten, when I graduated high school, and when I graduated college with a business degree. She was there for me through and through. Hell, she even came to my condo a couple of years ago when I broke my leg during a business transaction and fed me Chicken Noodle Soup for four days in a row because I couldn't move.

When people started placing flowers on the top of the casket I waited, hesitated. The flowers triggered a flood of memories, their fanciful smell invading my senses and taking me back to times I had taken for granted. I had forgotten until today that lilacs were her favorite flowers. Everyone here held roses. Why hadn’t I bought some lilacs? I kicked myself internally. Some son I was.

“Jake?” a small voice behind me asked. I turned around, still dazed. It was Emily, a girl I was sort of seeing. I hadn’t expected to see her here, we weren’t that involved.

She ran the back of her hand across my cheek, wiping away a tear. When had I started crying?

“Jake, are you alright?” she asked, concerned.

I had to think on that for a moment. Was I okay? Well, no, my mother was dead. My face told her what words couldn’t. No, I really was not okay. I finally managed to find my voice.

“Walk with me Emily, I can’t stand to see them put dirt on mother.”

We held hands as we slowly walked around the cemetery, in a large circle around the funeral. I could still hear all the sounds of the cemetery; people weeping into handkerchiefs, the minister assuring that mother was in a better place, the rustling of the trees overhead as the wind blew by, and the steady breathing of Emily beside me. I knew she was searching for words, but I hoped she couldn’t find any. Nothing she could ever say would make me feel better.

Squeezing her hand gently, we moved forward and headed back to the burial we were only moments ago avoiding. The minister came up to me carefully and reached out his hand. I shook it lamely.

“Trust in God, my son.”

And so that was that. She was really gone.

Mercifully, Emily had wandered away without another word to leave me to myself. After what seemed like an eternity in lost thoughts, I glanced at my watch. It was almost five. The will reading was at six. I finally placed my single rose down on the top of the headstone.

“Love you mom.”

***

The will reading was oddly very business like. I had only come to the reading because I was interested in what was now going to happen to my mother’s possessions, property and money. I was independantly wealthy myself, so I wasn’t too concerned with what I was going to get. Looking around, I noticed there were a few other people here. One of them I recognized as my mother’s sister, another I recognized as her friend. The others I didn’t recognize.

The frail looking lawyer gestured at us to sit.

“You are all here today to hear the reading of Ms. Laura Jenkinson’s last will and testament.”

He put on his reading glasses and read the will. I was surprised at how long and detailed it was. To her sister, my mother left all the money left in her stocks, bonds and bank account. I had no objection to this and thought it was a good choice. It was well known in our family that my mother’s sister was extremely house poor. The next part of the will talked about personal belongings that my mother had like jewelry and trinkets. Those were all to be left to her friend, Mary.

Finally the reading came to a close.

“Finally, to my son, Jacob, I leave my pubic property.”

Silence washed over the room as the lawyer handed me a small cherry-wood box.

When I said I loved my mom, I hadn’t meant like that!


Winning Entry for "The Writer's Cramp - Poetry Week"  - Prompt: Typos in important documents.