Memories

         "...In a better place." "...had work to do elsewhere." "...blessed for the time you did have together."

         The words were trite, clichéd, useless... cruel. Yet, those were the words written by well-meaning co-workers. The Sympathy card had been dropped on her desk during her lunch break, with a post-it note that read to pass it on to Jen when finished signing. Daniel, a guy she really didn't know, who sat 4 cubicles down from Kay, had just lost his young wife to breast cancer. An email was sent out earlier, indicating that a fund was also available, to anyone who wanted to make a denotation, for flowers or something like that. Kay really hadn't paid attention.

         Despite eight years passing since her parents and older brother were killed, nothing had really changed.

         "It will get better with time," was what one neighbor told her. Not really something a 13 year old girl wants to hear. Kay led a perfectly normal life now, but days, moments, like this sent memories flooding back to her, overwhelming her with the same feelings of fear, panic, regret, and a slew of other anxieties that a 13 year old girl could not comprehend.

         It was dusk when the police came to the house to tell her that her whole family was gone, dead, that she'd essentially been abandoned again. Of course the minister tried explaining that this time it was different. True, this time she wasn't a 1 year old dumped on the side of a highway in the middle of the night. This time her family was brutally taken from her during a carjacking.

         Her family's funeral was last one she ever attended. The three coffins, side-by-side, Amazing Grace on the organ and flowers, lots of flowers. Apparently, someone told the minister that Kay's mother loved Star Gazer lilies. As a result, bunches of the large white and magenta flower covered the coffins, the steps, and the alter; engulfing the room with a tropical aroma. So, while everyone commented on the beautiful fragrance in the room, Kay was sickened. Eight years later, the smell still made her feeling queasy. Funny how something as simple as a smell of a flower can bring back bad memories and evoke physical symptoms.

         A church is a reminder of the worst, day of her life. You would think, that day they died would be the worst, but no. That day, in the church, when neighbors took turns saying kind words about her parents, and teachers and coaches stood up to relate funny stories about Jason; that was the worst day in her life. The day she watched pallbearers carry their caskets, boxes containing the bodies of her parents and her 17 year old brother, out of the church, and then watched those same boxes lowered into a deep hole; that day was the worst in her whole life. That was the day she was completely alone.
Not wanting to be reminded of this gaping hole in her chest, she did her best to avoid churches and cemeteries. As a result, she had not attended one single wedding held in a church. She would politely bowed out of baptisms and christenings. Even the final choice of her apartment was based solely on the fact that she didn't have to walk by a church or see one out her window.

         She has no hard feelings with God, the minister, or anyone religious. She always thanked people for the various invitations, but had to tell them that she unfortunately couldn't attend due to prior commitments. She didn't consider herself an atheist or agnostic. She just a non-participant.

         Funerals though, were somehow different. It was as if you were obligated to go and give support to someone you only spoke to occasionally. It seemed that you were breaking a giant taboo by not sitting in a church or at a grave side, and crying over someone you really didn't know or had never met.

         So, to not appear to be cold and callous, Kay had to be a bit more deceitful, and give a better excuse than a simple, "I'm busy." This time, there was going to be a last minute work emergency, requiring her to run to the courthouse, to refile some papers. She would apologize to co-workers and ask for them to give her regards to Daniel, then Kay would be gone before the carpool left for the church.

         As for the card...

         Kay continued to stare at it, partly wishing it to go away. Not really knowing what to say, but not wanting to be one of the sheep sending condolences, she picked up her pen, and wrote, "It's ok to cry."


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