Heat Rises

Heat Rises

It was a picture perfect day. Children were playing in the park a block behind our house, the neighbors were preparing for a barbeque, a teenager was hosing down his car in his parents driveway. The weather was perfect, mid-80s, low humidity and not a cloud in the sky.

I was hot in my long sleeves and dress pants. The air conditioner was on, we had central air since we had moved in the house a year ago. I was still decorating. The dining room had been my pride and joy, looking like something right out of Home and Garden Magazine. I had total control over one room, paint it any color I wanted to use and make it any theme I wanted. We agreed on everything else, some compromises of course.



The accident didn't happen on a day like today. It was rainy and unseasonably cold. An overall depressing day. It was my fault he was out. I had wanted ice cream. I had a bad day at home, at work, during the commute to and from. I just wanted ice cream.



He had been exceptionally agreeable that night. We watched what I wanted to on TV and even ordered take out from the Chinese place he was never in the mood for which I'm sure the coroner could identify with out question.



The breaks went out. I don't know how. There was an investigation that just ended up concluding a failure in the car. There had been a recall we missed which coincided with the move. Maybe the mail got lost or thrown out, an act of fate.



I didn't even smile at him as he left. I didn't say thank you, I didn't even think about it. I was pissy, plain and simple. There was no 'I love you, hurry home.' Hell, there wasn't even eye contact.



It would be easier if he was being selfish. What would some ones mindset be if their partner was leaving for a lover's house? Going out to gamble? To the bar? Would it had really mattered?

No, I suppose it wouldn't. Still I stare out the window at this perfect day. Someone comes in the room. They don't say anything at first but I can see her reflection in the window, it's my mother. She never really liked him. I wonder why she even came. To show support for me? I guess so but it doesn't matter. Nothing matters.



She asks me a question and I stare at her unmoving so she grabs my hand and guides me to the front door. When I take my first step outside I have to shield my eyes, the sun is blinding. I sat in a dark room for the past three days, not wanting to see the light of day so I guess I was a little sensitive to light.



The car is hot when I sit down. No one had rolled downed the windows. I started sweating as soon as I closed the door but I couldn't feel it. The funeral home was only two blocks away. We should have walked, it would have given me some peace before the storm. I could imagine I was on an evening walk with the puppy we were thinking about getting. How odd to think of such a thing at such a time. A puppy.



We arrived too soon. I got out of the car and walked up the stairs. I could see people in the room already, setting up flowers and wreaths. A man opened the door for me, I think he may have owned the place. Walking to the casket with the corpse of the man I loved was the longest walk I had ever taken. I kept staring at his lifeless body like it would move, like I would see the rise and fall of his chest as he takes a breath. Nothing. Just death. I move to the side and let his father look and say goodbye.



I shed a tear. The first tear I had since that night at the hospital. The flood gates were open. The tears didn't stop. I could feel. Everyone came. Everyone who was important in our lives in any way. Some shared a memory with me as they came up to the casket. Some didn't say a word, and that was fine. I cried, I smiled through my tears, and a moment when a memory was so fond, I laughed.



It was over. I had to say goodbye. The feeling stopped again, I had to shut it out. Burying your husband before you even got to begin your life was a terrible feeling. So it, along with every other feeling, got shut out.



I stared at him, at his lifeless body. His shell. It was the way I would remember him the most sadly. That image burned into my brain. They shut the casket. I went home.



The funeral was a blur. All I remember was that it was another beautiful day. Until the end. It got cold. People started to shiver, I didn't feel anything. I even saw a young boy huddle to his mother. I felt a tear fall on my cheek but I wasn't crying. I looked up at the sky. It had turned dark as rain drops started to fall. It was over, he was gone. I could feel it. The cold, the rain, all of it. The heat rose, the body was dead and cold but the spirit with all it's warmth rose into the sky.