They in no way describe my dad, his life, or his accomplishments. They don’t adequately express how much he’s loved. How I’ll miss him.
How I need him.
Noise at the back of the crowd has me looking up; my aunts. Of course. I just need five more minutes. Five minutes to finish reading, then for them to lower him into the ground. Five more minutes before we can leave here and never come back. Five more minutes before we head across town to Max’s family home, where Janine graciously offered to host the wake.
I accepted her offer, though I’m embarrassed this will be the first time they meet my extended family. But again, Max and I seem to be on the tail end of whateverthisis, so I doubt I have to worry about impressing his family for much longer.
It’s weird that I don’t care about the future of my two-year relationship.
I finish reading my bit and refold the wrinkled paper, and when Kenny Rogers’ voice begins and the funeral director hands me a rose to drop on top of the coffin, I choke on grief thicker than anything I’ve experienced in the last few weeks since we knew the end was near.
I turn and slowly walk toward the closed coffin. I want to tell him how much I love him. How much I’ll miss him. I want to give him profound words that’ll soothe us both, but all I can obsess about is the hole he’ll be buried in, and my irrational fear of tripping and falling in with him.
Grief and exhaustion can make a girl think weird things.
I throw the rose in, but when it hits the coffin lid with a sickening thud, I swallow down sickness that swirls in my belly. Should I have done that differently? Surely I could have done it so that we wouldn’t hear it land. I don’t know… maybe I should have bent lower and gracefully placed it in? But I can’t get closer without breaking out in nervous sweats when I think of falling in.
I hate that I’m overthinking this.
I hate this whole day.
When I step away and take my place beside Jack, the funeral director asks that everyone make a single line, take a rose, say their goodbyes to my dad, and give their condolences to my brother and me. So I stand there and accept hugs and pretentious words from assholes who don’t mean a thing they’re saying.
I stand in place for a long time and hug people I don’t like, but it’s not all one sided, because they don’t like me, either. This portion of the funeral seems to take the longest, but I keep going, because the last few to step forward are people that I actually want to see.
Casey steps up to me with eyes that are pink and puffy from crying. I know she genuinely cares. She’s been my constant support since the day I found out about my dad’s cancer. She and I have been best friends our whole lives, and I know she’ll miss my dad as much as I will.
My dad’s friend, George, steps up next and gives me the warmest hug I’ve had in days, wipes my tears away and kisses me on the forehead. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. Truly. I’ll miss him very much. You give me a call anytime. Don’t be a stranger.”
With my chest rapidly rising and falling in an attempt to keep my grief at bay, George’s kindness almost breaks me, but I refuse to allow it. I hold it together, because I don’t have time to fall apart. Casey stands beside me and Jack, and when the music changes and catches everyone’s attention, we turn and watch the director flip some latches and start lowering my dad into the ground.
My chest heaves with painful sobs when, despite my willing myself not to, I break apart and lose it in front of all these people. Hot, salty tears dribble down my cheeks and over my lips.
Watching a loved one being buried is so unbelievably hard. It’s so final. They’re officially gone.
Watching your daddy being buried is a whole new level of torture.
I can’t stop the tears, or the wracking sobs that rip through my chest as he disappears lower and lower into the ground, and though Casey moves to my side and holds me as tight as she can, my daddy is still gone, and the hole in my chest still festers and hurts.
* * *
Casey, Jack, and I drive together to Janine’s home for the wake. I don’t want to be here, since my dad isn’t either, but it would be rude to saddle Janine with my family and not actually turn up.
As soon as we arrive at the house a few miles outside of the town proper, Jack takes off into the yard, and Case and I walk through the front door and into the dining room in search of Janine.
“Woah, wait.” Case grabs my arm and yanks us to a stop. “Did you speak to Max today?”
“No… We haven’t talked for a few days.”
She nods over my right shoulder. “He’s here.”
I mean, it makes sense that he’s here. This is where he lives.
I turn only my head and look over my shoulder, to find him standing close to who I assume is a waitress.
We’ll call her Fake Boob Betty.
Janine went all out and hired caterers for today, and while I appreciate the effort, I know it’s because she wants to keep up appearances. She wants to appear the saint for volunteering her time and money to help me – the poor girlfriend.