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Decca came to me after I’d said the Trisagion. She molded her small body against mine, holding me up. I’d surely collapse without her.
The few hours after his passing were a liminal time. All of us in the same room, processing that Dad was no longer in his body.
There was silence. There was laughter. There were shots of Fireball, for some stupid reason.
Then came time for the worst part, and the house went still.
Ma sat on the sofa in the blue room, staring straight ahead into the void, one hand holding Yia-Yiá‘s, the other propped against her temple, a crumpled tissue in her fist.
Waylon was on the other end, his crossed legs stretched out in front of him, watching his daughter. Athena, blissfully unaware of the late hour, or what was happening, squawked joyfully as she played with her stacking cups on the floor.
Emma and Monica, the apprentices, sat on the basement steps, holding hands and waiting to step in if they were needed. Death calls would divert to other mortuaries for the next week.
God grant George and Bethany strength when they come back to work.
In the hallway outside the door to the embalming room, Bethany was crying silently, her hand clamped over her mouth.
She gestured to the door. “He…” she sobbed. “He said he needed a minute alone. I didn’t know if I should or not, but…” She shook her head, unable to continue.
There was no need to continue. Who knew what any of us needed right now? Especially what George might need. It was impossible, the task he was about to do.
I cupped her elbow and nodded.
“George and I undressed him.” She sniffed. “It was a lot.”
“I’m so grateful you’re here,” I said to her. It wasn’t enough.
No words were.
George’s back was to me as I entered the embalming room.
His arms were crossed. His head was low. No movement came from his body, like he wasn’t even breathing.
“George?”
“I don’t know if I can do this,” he said softly. His voice was breaking, and the silence in the room made his words ring. “No one asked me if I wanted to embalm my own father.”
“You’ll regret it if you don’t.”
“I’m not as unfeeling as everyone thinks.”
“No one thinks that.”
He snorted and shook his head.
“We’ll take our time,” I said.
George lifted his head and turned to me. “You?”
I nodded. I hadn’t planned to help with Dad’s embalming. I hadn’t prepared a body since mortuary school, and I’d hated every minute of it, but this was different. Looking at George’s crumpled face, he needed me to be here with him.
George’s eyes were red and glossy. I couldn’t remember if I’d ever seen my brother cry. And he wasn’t crying now, but he had been, and he probably needed to cry some more. Really let it all out. “Thanks,” he said, exhaling with what looked like relief.
Soula burst through the door wearing scrubs and a gown. “I know, I know. I’m not supposed to be in here, but I’ve sutured plenty of long bone donations when I was in med school, and if anyone knows how to raise a blood vessel, it’s me. Licensed or not, this is my house. And I’m not letting you embalm our father without me.”
I smiled at George, who looked at me. “This was the way Dad always wanted it,” he said. “The three of us working together.”
“Okay then.” I nodded. “What should we listen to?” I opened my music app and connected it to the Bluetooth speaker in the corner. It wasn’t the old boom box Dad had used for decades, but it would play the same songs.
