Chapter 25

The next few days were a blur. Mom basically shut down, alternating between hours of crying, and just sitting, staring blankly ahead, just zoned out. Although they had a family plot, that my mother’s parents had bought before they passed, there was still the viewing and funeral to arrange, which I couldn’t have done without Rosita.

On top of keeping her restaurant going and working on the food bank nonprofit, she helped me make calls to the mortuary, insurance companies, and funeral home to get everything arranged. More than just helping with the logistics, she was a foundation I could lean against. My father and I weren’t particularly close growing up but losing him had taken a bigger toll on me than I would have expected it to. Several nights, after getting Mom in bed and making sure she was okay, I’d go to Rosita’s house and she would just hold me so I could grieve.

After a night at Rosita’s, Tessa went back to stay with Mom. The two must have really got on well that first night Tessa stayed with them, because she was very concerned with making sure Mom was fed and taken care of, despite getting little response back from Mom, who was still in a fugue state. If I was one to psychoanalyze, which I’m really not, I’d guess she was trying to keep herself busy. Her life had pretty much fallen apart in that gas station two days before Dad’s heart attack and it was pretty unlikely she would have already gotten over the beating she’d received. Of course, it was also just as likely that she’d leaped without a net when she’d decided to leave him, because he’d made sure she had no resources to get away and had forced her to ostracize herself from her family.

Over time, those wounds would probably heal, but hundreds of miles away in a place where she’d been purposefully kept from making friends, she’d had no one to turn to when she decided to leave him. It was a testament to both how bad things must have been with him and her own strength of character, but it would also mean she’d have little choice but to cling to any lifeline she was offered, which in this case was us. Staying and helping Mom at least guaranteed food, a roof over her head, and some protection when Lonnie returned.

While Rosita helped me cope with Dad’s death, Tessa gave us the ability to still get those daily tasks done that didn’t disappear just because we’d had a tragedy.

We had the viewing three days after Dad passed, and the turnout was incredible. A lot of the people who stopped to pay respects were guys Dad had worked with for years in the mines, but a lot were people from the town and even far out into the county who I was pretty sure Dad had never even had conversations with. They were all there because of Mom. Between her years teaching in the local elementary school and her involvement with the church, Mom had probably been in contact with every family in the county at one point or another. There was even a large contingent of mourners from both Summersville and all the way out in Charleston who’d come to pay their respects, to both my parents.

The funeral itself was, if anything, a bigger affair than the viewing. Admittedly, the church wasn’t large and normally only held a few hundred people on Sundays, but it was packed with people standing along the walls and even outside the front door. Mom had recovered a little as the shock of Dad’s sudden death started to wear off. I think getting out of the house for the viewing and the normal obligations she felt towards social duties had really helped push her back into being herself. I wasn’t sure she’d ever fully recover from Dad’s death, since the two had been together since they were teenagers, but she was at least eating normally again and talking to people without falling into fits of sadness.

She’d declined to speak, since she didn’t trust herself to talk about Dad without falling apart, and instead she’d volunteered me to do it. So I found myself up in front of hundreds of people, wearing a suit and tie that I hadn’t tried on in years, having to sum up my complicated relationship with my father. I’d tried to write it out ahead of time, but every attempt ended up crumpled and thrown in the trash. Now, Mom was in the front row, sandwiched between Rosita and Tessa, looking at me expectantly, so I decided to just start talking and hope for the best.

“It’s hard to know what to say about my father. Hell, I think some of you knew him better than I did ... sorry Reverend,” I said, both for my mother and the Reverend Dalton, who made a face at my swearing. “My dad came from a generation where a man was expected to go to work and provide for his family, and he did that as good as any man could have. He might not have had long talks about hopes and expectations and feelings, but he made sure I never went without. He supported me when I was at my dumbest and made sure I got to do all the things he hadn’t been able to do growing up. He showed me how to be a man by living his life the only way he knew how. I saw the respect he got from his friends, from the men he worked with, and from the community. He always kept his word and never failed to follow through on a promise.”

So far, I’d been winging it, but I looked over and saw the owner of the hardware store, looking uncomfortable in his Sunday suit, a long-forgotten memory popped into my head.

“I’m reminded about something that happened when I was about ten years old. The mine had just had one of their big layoffs and a lot of guys were out looking for work, and Dad didn’t know if he was going to be kept on or not. We’d had some damage to the roof during a storm, and he sent me down to the hardware store to get some supplies. I, being the dumb kid I was, forgot the money he’d left for me on the kitchen table, so when Mr. Greer asked for it, I just stood there like an idiot. Keep in mind, everyone in town knew about the layoffs, and no one knew who was going to have a job the next day. I remember Mr. Greer looking down at me and saying, ‘It’s okay. I’ll get it from Donald the next time I see him. I trust him.’ And that was it. I went home with the stuff for Dad. He knew my father and knew he’d pay his debts, even if he lost his job in the mines. My dad was a lot of things, a provider, a leader, a friend. But most of all, he was trusted. I’ll miss you, Dad.”

I stepped out from behind the podium and Mom got up and gave me a hug, tears flowing down her cheeks. I realized I really did miss him. We hadn’t been close, but he’d been a steadfast presence in my life that I wouldn’t ever be able to replace.

The preacher closed out the service and we had a procession out to the grave site, where we laid Dad to rest. Rosita was holding my hand tight as I sat in the front row under the tent the funeral director had set up, watching as they lowered Dad into the ground.

Tessa had gone back to the house to heat up and set out the food Rosita had brought over that morning for the reception. A lot of ladies from around town had been dropping over all morning before the service, leaving cakes and casseroles which we added to the plates to be served. About half the mourners went back to their lives, since a lot of them were business owners who couldn’t keep their stores closed all day, but a lot came back to the house afterward.

We had cars lining either side of the county road and I felt bad for any trucks that had to come into town that afternoon, since it was going to be a pretty tight fit. Mom had gone into hostess mode as soon as we were back, fretting over all of the preparations. Tessa did her best to keep up, but I think Mom needed this to focus on so no one tried to get her to back away. I felt a little bad for Tessa, who hadn’t signed up to be run so ragged, but she didn’t complain. She was to start working with Rosita in the morning. She’d been pretty excited about it, so at least she had that to look forward to.

The reception went on for three hours, with people eating and telling stories about Dad. Most of them I’d never heard before. I guess people just assumed you knew your parents, and so never told you about all the little interactions they had with them. In Dad’s case, it was like hearing about a man I’d never met. Stories about practical jokes and youthful indiscretions painted a picture of someone that, honestly, I think I would have wanted to be friends with. It’s strange how hard it is to think of your parents as real, three-dimensional people instead of just being your parents. It’s even stranger to only start thinking about them for who they were after they were gone.

As the house started emptying finally, I found myself out on the porch on the big swing Mom liked to sit on sometimes, holding hands with Rosita, just looking out at the fields across the street and the peaks in the distance.

“That was a really nice eulogy you gave your dad,” she said after we sat silently for a few minutes.

“Thanks. I felt like I was just rambling.”

“Well, it started that way, but you stuck the landing. I think everyone could see how much you loved your dad.”

I just kind of shrugged, not sure how to respond to that. Not that I didn’t love my dad, because I did. It was just that the emotions around it were complicated.

“How are you holding up?” she asked.

“Good ... I mean ... I don’t know.”

“How about you try rambling for a bit and see where you end up.”

I laughed but gave it a shot.

“I guess I’m just confused. I mean, I miss my dad and I’m really sad he’s gone, which, in itself, feels strange. We weren’t particularly close when I was a kid and we never really fixed that. Even when I moved back, we’d say hi, watch a game together, but everything was superficial. Now that he’s gone, though, I feel like I made a mistake. I really loved him and wanted more of a relationship with him, but it took him dying for me to realize that.”

“I can see how that would be confusing,” she said after I fell silent and it was clear I wasn’t going to add anything else.

“Yeah, but that’s not the really confusing part. The thing that’s really messing me up is that just before he collapsed in the kitchen, my life was just about as good as it’s ever been. I can’t remember a time I’ve been happier than since I met you. Even after the whole Tessa thing, I was still walking on air, because I knew I was going home to you. I still feel all that happiness; but with the sadness about my dad on top of it, it’s got me all turned around.