John pulled the cleaner’s plastic off of his black double-breasted suit and slipped it into his blue garment bag.  He put his freshly pressed oxford and red tie next to the suit. “I haven’t worn this outfit since… the last funeral.  Whose was it?   Your second cousin Agnes?” He zipped up the bag and laid it on his bed.

“Agnes had a nice funeral, really tasteful.  I hope this is tasteful, Aunt Ginny was tasteful, She should have a tasteful funeral.”  Debbie said.  She rushed out of the walk-in closet and threw her black shoes into her overnight bag.  She took a deep breath and tried to steady herself.  “ Do you really think we should bring the kids?  I mean… they’re still pretty young.  They didn’t even know Ginny that well.  I think they met her once.”

“We already went over this.”  John faced Debbie and smoothed the shoulder of her sweater.  “It’s important the kids understand death.  They have to deal with it.  It’s a fact of life   Besides, it’s better that they don’t know her that well, it won’t be so tragic.”

“For Christ's sake couldn’t we just buy a goldfish like everyone else?”  She grabbed a Kleenex from the nightstand and blew her nose.  “It’s a five-hour drive and the kids can’t sit still for five minutes.  Besides, you know Meg gets car sick.”  She rushed towards the bathroom to get her toiletries.  

John took hold of her arm gently.  Debbie nearly lost her balance from the sudden stop of motion.  “I’ll just give her some Dramamine.  Honey, I know how you hate these things.  Don’t worry.  I’ll take care of the kids.  They’ll be okay.  They have to learn about this sooner or later.”

“I’d just prefer it was a little later.”  She wiped away a tear.  “But, I guess you are right.”

John kissed his wife softly on the cheek.  He picked up the garment bag.  Folding it in half he buckled it shut.  He grabbed the overnight bag and headed downstairs.  “Kids, come on we’re leaving Megan, Patrick, Laura, head ‘em up and move ‘em out!”

 

The three children were in the den at the bottom of the stairs.  Debbie had already packed their bags and their coats were laying on their bags.  They sat watching an old Warner Brothers cartoon on TV.  Megan, age nine, was fixing her little sister’s hair.  “Sit still or you’ll mess it up.”

“But I hate getting my hair combed, you pull it too hard.”  Laura squealed.

“Don’t you want it to look good when you see Grandma?”

“Not if it hurts.” Laura pouts.

 

Patrick sat in the rocker laughing as Daffy Duck got his beak blown off by Elmer Fudd for the sixth time.  “Daffy’s funny Dad.” His six-year-old face lit up as Daffy’s beak got blown off yet again. 

 

“Come on.  Let’s go, enough Daffy.  Get your bags.  That’s it, pile into the car.  He herded his kids out the door and into the Volvo Station wagon.  Debbie followed behind locking up the house and setting the alarm.  

“Everyone ready?”  Debbie slid into the passenger seat.  “Everyone taken care of business?”

“Yes, Mom”  All three children chimed back to her.

“Then let’s get a move on,” John said.  He turned over the ignition and pulled out of the driveway.

 

Pulling onto the highway, John looked out at the billboards passing by.  “A is for Acura from Friendly Acura“

“B in Bob’s Auto Insureance!” Megan yelled.  

“C in Citicorp Bank,”  They continued to play the game until they had gone through the alphabet three times, and then they switched to “I spy” until the three kids fell asleep, about an hour into the trip.

Debbie, who hadn’t played much, stared out the window.  “I’m not sure I’m going to be much help with the kids.”

“Don’t worry about it, I’ll take care of them.  You need to take care of yourself right now.  We’ll be okay.  I know how hard this is on you.  Debbie watches the treeline give way to a long sloping hill that ends with large squares of fertile soil laid out in large tracts from the farms on the valley below.  “I’ll take care of the kids,” John said.

 

Debbie remembered the camping trip she had taken with Aunt Ginny when she was twelve.  Her Aunt had taught her how to fish, steer a canoe, swim, start a fire, and read a compass, all in two weeks.  She remembered the khaki skirt and blouse she wore, ordered from the L.L. Bean catalog.  They had played gin rummy in the tent as the rain fell for two straight days.  A tear rolls down Debbie’s cheek and slides under her chin.  “It’s after twelve, we’d better stop for lunch.” 

They pulled into a rest area on Route 84, just east of Danbury.  John shuffled the kids off to the washroom as Debbie unpacked the lunches.

“Dad” Patrick looked up at his father.  “What’s a wake?”

“Well, it’s… well you see when a person dies, people gather together to remember how that person touched their lives.”  

“They do it with the body of the person in the room,” Laura whispered and made a scary face as the two girls peeled off to the girl's room.

“Is that true?” Patrick asked looking more than a little freaked out.

“Yes, Aunt Ginny will be at the wake,”  John said in the most comforting voice he could muster.

“Why?”

“It’s so we can say goodbye.”

“Will she know we said goodbye?” 

“I think so, Son.  John lifted his son to the faucet so he could wash his hands.  “Wash them well, so we can eat.  You don’t want any germs on your hands do you, Tiger?”

“No, Sir”  Patrick doubled his efforts scrubbing under the lukewarm water.

 

They all sat eating peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and milk in the Spring sun.  A warm breeze blew the grass white.  Debbie looked around.

“It’s such a nice day.  I hope tomorrow’s as nice.  It’s really nice weather for a funeral.”

“Mom, I’m eating,” Laura said.

“I thought rain was nice weather for a funeral?” Meg asked.

“Sunny weather is always nice and rain is always bad, Dummy!” Patrick piped in.

“Not always,” Meg replied. “Farmers need rain for crops, or they will die.”

“Is that how Aunt Ginny died Dad?  She didn’t get enough rain?” Patrick asked.  

“No Patrick, her heart was old and frail and it just stopped while she was sleeping.”  His father puts his hand on the small boy’s head and straightened his hair.

“Is your heart weak?”

“No, Son, mine is fine.  Don’t worry about old Dad.  He’ll be around for a long time.”

“That’s good cause I’d miss you.”

 

John stared out onto the highway.  Counting the cars that passed.  “I’ll be around for a long, long time.”  He finishes off his PB&J and drains the last of the coffee from the thermos.  

He packed the mess and got the kids back into the car while Debbie ran off to the bathroom before they headed off again.

 

Two hours later, they pulled into Debbie’s mother’s driveway.  Barb was waiting by the when they reached the porch.  The children greeted their grandmother with hugs and kisses.  

“I am so sorry,  Barb.”  John hugged his mother-in-law and then directed his children to the bathroom.

“Ohh, Mom.”  Debbie wrapped her arms around her mother and tried to wring the pain away from her mother’s face.  “How are you holding up?”

“Okay, I guess.”  She held her daughter tight.

“Is anyone else here?”

“Yes, you’re the last to arrive.”  She let go of her daughter to wipe away a tear.  “It’s strange.  I miss her already.”

“I know, so do I.”

 

John walked into the kitchen, where his father-in-law was pouring drinks.  “Hi, Dan. How are you?”

“All right, I guess, given everything.  How about you, was it a rough trip?” He patted John on the back as they shook hands.

“No, not at all.  Meg didn’t even get sick.  How’s Barb doing?  Is she holding up?”

“It hasn’t been easy, but I think she’s through the worst of it.  How is Deb?  Ginny was always her favorite.”  Dan sipped at his scotch and water.  

“So-so.  I’m going to try to keep the kids out of her way.  You know, spend a lot of time with them.”

Dan nodded “You want something to drink?  Scotch and soda as I recall?”

“Thanks, but no, I have to get unpacked first.  Same rooms as always?”  He picked up the luggage and walked upstairs, into the guest room.  Two single beds had been pushed together to make a double.  He placed the bags on the bed.  Looking around the room he found the wooden dresser and placed his alarm clock on the white doily that lay on it.  Out the window, he saw the kids running around the backyard with their cousins.  He smiled remembering the family reunion last summer.  The barbecue, the games it had been really fun.  Remembering Ginny the smile slid away from his face.

He’d been to six funerals in his life.  Two were for his grandparents, one cousin, one friend, and two of Debbie’s relatives.  Now it was Ginny.  He had liked her.  She was very funny.  She had been a bridesmaid at their wedding.  She had given them a lovely silverware set.  They used it for special occasions. In the wedding pictures, she had given Father O’Brien rabbit ears.  Only she could have gotten away with a stunt like that.

John looked out at his kids again.  He ran his lecture on death through his mind.  Was it a good idea, he wondered.   Yes, this was the right thing to do. He walked downstairs and joined his wife in the living room.  She was talking with her older brother Robert, an engineer for IBM. 

“…I just hope they don’t ask any more questions.  I don’t want to explain these Maura wanted to know why we were burying Aunt Ginny.  I don’t know what to say to that.”

“It’s hard.  They ask straightforward questions.  Patrick wanted to know what a wake was.  You just have to be honest.”

“He asked you that?” Debbie went white.  “I’m glad he didn’t ask me.”

“It’s okay, Hon.”  He rubbed her shoulder to soothe her.

“What time is the wake?”  John asked Bob.

“In about an hour.”  How long are you going to stay?”

“I figure I’ll stay with the kids about half-hour, hour tops.  The kids will get restless”.

“I know what you mean.” 

“I’m going to help Mom.’  Debbie kissed her husband and sped off into the kitchen to help her mother with the cooking.

Bob’s wife walked up.  Jan was a CPA who had graduated from Yale.  “I’ll never get used to an Irish wake.  You eat, drink, and party when you should be mourning.”

“It’s just easier to deal with that way.”  Bob wrapped his arm around his wife and gave her a squeeze.

“I still don’t get it.”

John laughed and went outside to find the children.  He felt that now was the best time for his talk.  He walked out onto the porch and found the kids sitting on the stairs eating a snack their grandmother had made them.

“Good cookies, huh?”  He sat down in between Laura and Megan.  He picked up Patrick and put him on his lap.  “We have to have a little talk.  You see, Mom was very close to Aunt Ginny.  She really misses her.  You might see her cry, a bit. But don’t worry, she will be okay.  We just have to give her some time.  That means that we have to be on extra special good behavior.  Okay?  No fighting.  No name calling.  Nothing.”  The three children looked down at their feet and nodded.  “There is something else we have to talk about.  Do you understand what happened to Aunt Ginny?  Do you know what happens to people when they die?”

“Their souls go up to God?” Patrick said.

“My CCD teacher said that a person dies because God wanted to spend more time with them, so he brings them up to heaven.” Laura agreed.

“That’s right.  Always remember that.”  He hugged each of his kids and gave them kisses.  “Now you’d better go inside and change.  We have to go soon.”  He picked up Patrick from his lap and set him down, he chased after his sisters following them into the house.

 

Half hour later John was at the bottom of the stairs wrestling Patrick into his dark blue double breasted jacket.  Debbie had left with her parents and Jan 20 minutes earlier.  Bob was going to drive them to the funeral after the chidren were ready.  

Patrick was squirming in his tiny khakis and white shirt.  He pulled at his collar and the yellow polka dotted bow-tie.  “Daddy! It’s too tight! It hurts.”  

John loosened the band on the bow tie.

“Does that feel better?”

“Yes, Dad, thanks.”  

John high fives Patrick who jumps up to meet his fathers hand.

“GIRLS!  WE ARE GONNA BE LATE!”  John shouts up the stairs.  

Megan and Laura come down the stairs holding hands.  They are wearing frilly spring dresses.  John thought they looked more like they were about to go to Easter Mass than a wake, but they really didn’t hae any suitable attire for the occasion, so this would have to do.

“Come on lets go, your Uncle has been waiting on us.”  John held the door open as the children filed out of the house.

Bob was waiting in his BMW in the driveway.  John opened up the back door so the kids could hop in.  They all bucked themselves into the black leather seats and sat quietly.  Laura played with her hair.  John got into the passenger seat and buckled up.  “All set?  Let’s go.”  He gave Bob a nervous smile.  John turned away and stared at the window.  He unconsciously played with his Fordham Class ring.  

It took ten minutes to get to the Strothers Funeral Home.  It sat at the corner with massive white columns on its porch.  “Looks like something out of ‘Gone with the Wind’.” John said leaning over the dash and crooking his neck to see the top of the house.

HE got out of the car and guided his children into the funeral home.  Laura squeezed her father’s hand tightly as they walked down the corridor to the lying room.

Aunt Ginny was at the back of the room.  The red velvet walls were obscured by all of the flowers that had been sent from mourners.  Debbie and her family sat in a line in the front row.  Debbie and Jan greeted friends and family as Debbie’s older sisters Kathy and Sybil tried to comfort their mother.  Bob walked over and hugged his mother.  The other two brothers Mike and Ryan were making the final arrangements with Father O’Brien.  

Patrick tried to tear away from his father but John held onto his hand.

“I want to see Mom.”

“Not right now.  Remember what I said.”  John tried to settle his son down.  Patrick looked down at the ground.  Tears started to form in his eyes.

“I’m sorry.”

“That’s okay, just be patient.”  He knelt down and dried his son’s eyes.  “Come on Tiger, be strong for your Mom.”

“Yes, Sir.”

John and his children got in line to see Aunt Ginny.  Megan looked around at all the flowers that surrounded the room.  “Daddy, Daddy.”  She whispered.  “Why do people give flowers?”

“Is that another way we say goodbye?”  Patrick pulled at the cuff of his father’s jacket.

“Yes, Patrick.  We also show respect to the dead.”

“But… She won’t know she got them.”  Megan looked confused.  

“Yes she will.  She’ll see them in Heaven.” Laura rocked on her heels.

“Oh, I… forgot.”

Their turn came up and they slowly approached the casket.  Aunt Ginny lay in a bed of rose satin.  Her spotted hands held a Celtic rosary of Connemara marble.  Its large green beads rest peacefully on her body.  The make-up on her face made her seem plastic.  John had been watching his children and hadn’t looked closely at Ginny until now.  He looked at her rashen skin and froze.  In all the funerals and wakes he had been to he never really looked at the body in the casket.  It didn’t look real.

“Are you sure that’s her?”  Laura asked staring at her great Aunt

“It doesn’t look like her,”  Megan whispered.

Laura reached out her little hand and touched Ginny’s hand.  “Ehhh, it’s cold!”

“Laura, DON’T!!”  John grabbed her hands and threw them down by his daughter’s sides.  She was startled and started to cry. 

“SHHHH, SHHH. I’m sorry Honey.  Stop crying.  Please. Honey. It’s okay.”  John tried to calm down his daughter.  Her screams cut through the sobs and drew attention to the casket.

John turned around quickly to see the entire room staring at his screaming child.  An elderly woman in the corner was pointing and shaking her head.  Debbie had a look of terror on her face.  John quickly snatched up Laura and headed for the door.  “Megan grab Patrick and follow me.”   John had Laura in his left arm, her legs kicking all the way.  With his right he pulled Megan who was practically dragging Patrick behind her.  His legs moving independently of the upper half of his body.  He turned back to look at his mother rise to her feet.  But she was penned in by the mourners and couldn’t make it up the aisle especially after all Laura’s screaming had gotten folks to their feet.

 

John walked as fast as he could down the dimly lit hallway covered in striped silk wallpaper and long velour curtains.  He found an empty side room and dragged them all into it.  He slumps down into a sofa and looks at Laura.  Her  face was bright red and hot with tears.  Megan came stumbling to a halt and Patrick crashed into her a second later.  

“I’m sorry, Honey.  I didn’t mean to scare you”

“It’s alright Laura.”  Patrick tugged at his sister’s sleeve.  He tried to rub her back, but it was more of a pat.

“It’s okay Laura, you are okay, “  Megan puts her arm around 

Laura tries hard to speak but she is breathing too hard and gasps between sobs.  

“YOU… DIDN’T… HAVE…TO…BE…SO…MEAN.

“I am so sorry.  I shouldn’t have done that.”  John wipes away the giant tears on Laura’s face.

“Uncle John? Our Dad’s thought you might need some help.”  

John looked up to find Linda, Mike’s oldest, standing next to them.  She was the oldest of her generation and had all of her father’s charm and her mothers brains.  

  “Patrick you ever seen a Game Boy?” Young Bobby, held out the new game to his young cousin.  “Want to learn how to play Mario Kart?” 

Patrick quick looked at his father.  His eyes huge and pleading.

John nodded and let out a sigh.  Bobby pulled Patrick to the other side of the couch and showed him the console.  

Laura slowed her breathing down as Linda crouched down next to her.  “That’s a very pretty dress you have on.”  

After three quivering breaths through her nose Laura was finally able to quietly say. “Thank you.”  Laura put her arms out and Linda picked up her cousin and hoisted her on her hip. 

“You okay Monkey?”  John brushed the hair out of Laura’s face.  She nodded and sank into Linda’s chest. “How about you, Peanut?”  He looked at Megan.  

“That was pretty dramatic Dad.”  

“It was, wasn’t it. Sorry about that.” 

“It’s okay.  

Linda bounced Laura on her hip  “Come on girls, I bet Aunt Jan has some candy in her purse.”  

Linda nodded to her Uncle and took the girls off to down the hall.  

John slumped back down in the chair and covered his face with his hands.  

Debbie walked up to John. “What happened?!”

“It’s.. my fault, I over reacted. Laura was touching your Aunt and I freaked out.  I’m sorry, I didn’t handle that well at all.  But they are all okay.  They’ll be fine.”

“Fine?”

“Nothing a few years of therapy won’t fix”  

Debbie took her husband’s hand.  She pulled him to his feet.  

“Come on, Father O’Brien is about to start the “Our Father”

 

“I’m really sorry.”  

“I know, come on.”

Debbie wrapped her arm around her husband and walked him back to the lying room.  

 

The voices came down the hall almost as one.  “Our Father, Who art in heaven…”