AllFreeNovel
Share Us
—
Randy holds her fragile hand, her skin almost translucent now. He’s silently crying as tears trickle down his face.
Matt and Audra are beside him, Matt’s elbows on the bed, Audra sitting in a chair next to him, her hand running up and down the length of his back.
Mom’s standing by the edge of the bed, one hand clinging to the bed frame, the other wiping moisture from her cheeks.
Kyle’s arms are wrapped tightly around me as I sit in his lap in the white chair, staring at her pale face.
She looks...peaceful.
Another breath.
It comes out heavy, soft, weighted.
“I love you, Mom,” I hear Kyle whisper as he rests his chin on my shoulder, his hand reaching out to push a stray strand of hair off her forehead.
Then, I see it, the last breath.
Everything feels final as it leaves her lungs quietly, gently, effortlessly. It flutters through the air, disappears as I let out a small whimper.
The tears fall in quick succession as I lean forward, laying my head in my hands.
There’s sobs and cries and sniffling as her final moment comes, then goes.
It's over.
Done.
My chest hurts.
It feels hollow, like there’s nothing in there. Just the reminder that life is fragile, delicate and, unfairly devastating.
—
I stand between Kyle and Matt in a lilac-colored dress Diane bought me on one of our Girl's Days last year. Mom let out an ugly cry when I walked down the stairs in it this morning. I had to hold her up as she clung to me, tears soaking my shoulder as she let it all out.
Now, she's seated beside Audra at the front of the church, keeping her company while Randy, Matt, Kyle and I greet all of Diane’s guests. Most of our small mountain town showed up, her associates from Denver, family from all over, a few old friends from Washington.
Kyle and Matt are both stony, detached, cold as they curtly greet everyone. Randy has more tact, thanks everyone profusely for coming to honor his bride. It almost makes me break down in tears every time he calls her that.
I try not to let it bother me that people are eyeing my unusual dress choice for a funeral. Everyone else is dressed in dark, solemn colors. But I know Diane would have loved that I showed up in this dress. She told me I looked beautiful in it as I twirled for her in the changing room.
“One day, Jenny,” she beamed, “you’re going to steal some boy’s heart and he won’t be able to get over how stunning you look in that dress.”
I smile at the blurry memory, wonder if she knew I'd steal her son's heart. Both of her sons' hearts. Seems so long ago now.
So much can happen in a year.
Eventually, we take our seats. I’m sandwiched between Kyle and Randy as the pastor says some incredibly sweet, kind words. I dab my eyes with a tissue from the box Mom handed me before the service began. I think she cleared out the Dollar Tree shelves this morning. I’m glad she came prepared with a wagon full of tissues. We all need them.
Kyle’s arm wraps around me when Randy stands, crinkles the yellow paper in his hand and walks up to the podium. He lets out a long sigh, wipes the tears from his face, grips the oak-colored wood with both hands.
“We didn’t have the perfect marriage,” he begins, a forced chuckle leaving his lips. “I don't think anyone does. Diane and I, we both messed up and hurt each other more often than we should have." He pauses, tries to pull himself together long enough to get through his speech.
"If I could go back, I would do a lot of things differently. I would have loved her wholeheartedly, right from the beginning. I never would have waited until I felt she earned my trust before giving her my whole heart. I wouldn’t have let petty things get in the way of our relationship.
"I would have been the first to gracefully bow out of a fight, the last to kiss her each night before she drifted off to sleep. I would have given her more of myself earlier on.” He clears his throat, lets out the saddest cry I’ve ever heard before continuing. “Even though we didn't always get it right; we never gave up. Not when it got tough, not when it didn’t make sense to stay together. We fought for each other. That’s the one thing I’m proudest of. I have a lot of regrets. I’m sure she did, too, but I don’t regret that I chose her. I kept choosing her. And, until the day I die, I will always choose her. She may not be here now physically, but she lives on in me. In our sons. In all the good she did.
