I Remember (Remembrance Series) (16 page)

I stepped out of the shower, grabbing a robe and wrapping it tightly around me, wondering what I should wear. I knew black was customary for someone in mourning, but wasn’t sure I had anything.

I was about to give up on finding something black, when I remembered the dress that I had purchased just for Valentine’s Day. It was still wrapped in the dress bag from the store and in my car.

It was an A-line with an empire waist. From the waistline down, it was solid black with a black and white polka-dot belt interlacing the front. The top portion was short sleeved with a squared neckline in the same polka-dot design. It caught my attention because it was simple, yet flattering, and even offered a little peek of the left leg with a slit from the ankle to just above the knee. The fit was perfect, though I dreaded the new meaning this article of clothing would hold for me.

I brought it in and found some black heals to go with it. A pair of hoop earrings my father had given me and a simple gold necklace with a heart on it completed the look.

I went back to the bathroom and made quick work of my makeup and hair, keeping everything simple and natural. Dad always fancied the updo hairstyle and said it looked very becoming on me.

I quickly dressed and headed to the kitchen for breakfast.

“Wow! Jordan, you look amazing!” Mom stated. Aunt Melinda and Uncle Tom nodded in agreement.

“Thanks, Mom. Just wish I felt that way.”

“When did you get that dress? It is so flattering.”

“It is the only black dress I own. I initially purchased it for a Valentine’s date. I hope it is okay for today and tomorrow.”

“You look fine, and your father would have loved this look on you,” she said, reaching for my hair and starting to tear up.

“I know, Mom. I’m wearing my hair this way for him.”

I finally sat down to enjoy my breakfast as everyone else disappeared to get ready.

Mom came out wearing a lovely short sleeved black dress tied at the waist, with a scattered pattern of red and pink roses. I had never seen her wear this dress before, but it looked wonderful on her.

“You look lovely, Mom.”

“Thank you. We should head to the funeral home,” she said, somberly.

Tom walked into the kitchen. “Why don’t we do the driving over the next couple of days, so both of you can rest?”

A staff member greeted us at the door and showed us to the viewing area.

I hugged mom hard and started to feel my eyes moisten. She whispered in my ear, “Be strong, Sweetie. Just remember, he is no longer suffering.”

Two of my cousins were the first to join us, followed by a throng of other people, including long-time friends, relatives, church members and friends of both Mom and Dad from various clubs and activities that they were involved in. All expressed their sorrow at our loss and quickly left.

To my surprise, Linda, from work, and several of Pamela’s followers walked through the doors with offerings of condolences and several cards from people at the office. They offered hugs and asked when I would be back to work. They mentioned several well wishes from co-workers, Pamela included, which took me off guard, primarily because she was so bitter, lately.

I was cordial, but I felt an ominous presence that did not lift until they departed. I tried to dismiss it as paranoia with all the stress, but kept my guard up just in case.

The viewing passed quickly and we were greeted by Alley and her parents, as soon as we arrived back home.

We talked for a while, before she asked, “When do you think you will be coming back to the apartment?”

“I was going to talk to you about this after everything settled down. Mom and I need each other to get through this loss. A few days or even weeks will probably not be enough to get things both back to normal for us.” I paused before continuing. “There are only a couple of months left on the apartment lease. I will pay my half of the rent through the end and any other expenses I have incurred, if you’ll sign me off the lease. Hopefully, it will give you plenty of time to either find a new roommate or new place.”

Alley was not shocked by my revelation. I would miss her dearly, but she seemed to understand my priorities.

I let her know that it would probably take me a few weeks, stopping by after work and on weekends, to pack things up before I could hire a mover.

Alley’s eyes started to tear up before she changed the subject to my romantic life. “Are you still talking with that guy?” When I smiled, she added, “Okay, give me the 411, girl!”

I enlightened Alley on all the wonderful things Gregory had done for our family.“Do you know what he looks like, yet?”

“Yes, he is quite attractive.”

“You like him, don’t you?”

“I do, but as a friend, for now. We talk every night and hope to meet, soon. I know we will be good friends, but I’m finding myself hoping for more.”

“He sounds amazing,”

“He is; and what’s strange is that I can talk to him about anything and it feels as though I have known him, forever.”

Before long, Alley and her parents headed back to Orlando.

It was bedtime when I realized I had not heard from Gregory, today. I picked up the phone and discovered that I still had the volume muted from the funeral home.

A voicemail message had been left a few hours earlier. It was Gregory, his voice panicked. “Are you okay? I’ve been worried about you. I know the next two days are going to be quite emotional. Call me, no matter what time it is. I need to know you’re all right!”

He picked up on the first ring. “Jordan!”

“Hi, Gregory, sorry I had my phone muted this afternoon.”

“I have been concerned about you. Did everything go all right?”

“I guess so. We got a little teary eyed, but we got through it. However, one set of visitors, from work, had me on edge.”

I went on to explain how a few of my co-workers, known for their nefarious behaviors; had come paying their respects and acting as though we were best friends. I couldn’t express it completely, but let him know how it unnerved me.

“Maybe you should give them the benefit of the doubt for now, but keep your wits about you, as a safety,” he advised.

Then he quickly changed the subject. “Am I keeping you up? I just noticed it is late.”

“No worries, it is not like I could sleep easily, anyhow. Did you need to go?”

“No, I have missed talking with you, today. I take pleasure in our conversations,” he confessed.

“I look forward to them, too. The day does not seem complete until I’ve chatted with you.”

Just then I started to yawn.

“Jordan, you are exhausted. Why don’t you try to get some sleep and we can talk tomorrow?”

“I am tired, but I dread sleeping, tonight.”

“Why?”

“If I fall asleep, it means that tomorrow will come and I don’t want it to get here. I don’t want to say farewell to my father.” I started weeping.

“What I wouldn’t give to be able to hug you right now.”

“Same here,” I mumbled, as I wiped tears from my eyes.

“It is getting late and you have had a tiring day. Call when you feel up to it, tomorrow. Until then, dream that we have already met and that I am hugging you to help you sleep. I know I will,” Gregory stated softly, with a smile in his voice.

“I like the sound of that,” I replied, smiling.

“Goodnight, my Jordan. Dream of me and know if you need me, I am only a phone call away.”

“I will, but only if you dream of me, too.”

“I already do, my love. Bye.”

“Bye.”

I failed at trying to sleep in my bed; ending up on the sofa with a cover already in place and the television down low for background noise.

My dreams came quickly, tonight. I saw my father’s spirit at peace and felt Gregory’s warm embrace. I allowed my illusions to fill and comfort me. I spent the entire night in his arms, leaning back against a park bench looking out onto the lake, where ducks swam gracefully at the water’s edge.

I felt so comfortable and safe with my dreams. I could hear Gregory’s voice reassure me, ‘Everything will be just fine. I am right here for you, always will be.’

The dream felt so real that I did not want to leave it, until I heard my mother’s voice. “Jordan, honey, it is time to wake up.” She shook my shoulder gently.

“We need to get moving, it is 7:00 AM and the service starts at 10:00.”

The morning was a blur of activity with everyone getting dressed in the same attire as the day before. Uncle Tom graciously cooked breakfast for everyone; although I declined, knowing that I was too tense to eat.

My father’s casket was open for the service, with our country’s flag, folded military-style, tucked into the corner. The casket spray of flowers we selected was breathtakingly beautiful.

There were a substantial amount of flowers, doting both sides and front of the service area. I never realized how many lives my father had touched. My heart swelled with pride.

Pastor Bob stepped up to the podium and began talking about what a wonderful man my father was and that was the last I remember him saying. I finally broke down into a deluge of tears.

As we waited outside for the procession to the cemetery to start, Caroline walked up and gave us both hugs, expressing her sorrow for our loss. “Jordan, please call on me should you need anything. Take the rest of the week for yourself and we hope to see you after that.” She gave me a gentle squeeze on the arm, stating she needed to return to the office, but wanted to be here to express her condolences.

“Thanks, Caroline.”

Granting my father’s final request to “go home”, the lead car, carrying the casket, re-routed the procession. We paused for a moment of silence in front of the house before continuing on to the cemetery.

The graveside service looked and smelled of spring with azalea bushes in full bloom and magnolia trees looking quite majestic in their southern beauty. The minister’s words were brief and we concluded by placing individual red roses on top of his casket, as our final farewell.

At home, I quickly changed, distancing myself as much distance as possible from the memories my dress now held. I pulled on some comfortable jeans, sandals and a peach t-shirt. I took the pins out of my hair, letting it fall into ringlets around my face, finally breathing a sigh of relief.

I sat on the sofa and tried watching some television. My heart felt oddly at ease and peaceful, but there was a piece of it missing.

“We can go get the cards for you if you like,” Aunt Melinda stated.

“What are you talking about?”

“Melinda was offering to go down to the cemetery and collect the cards from the arrangements so we would know who to send thank you notes too.” Mom explained.

“I can do it. I need some fresh air.” Before anyone could protest, I had my purse, cell phone and camera and was already out the door.

I was surprised to find no evidence of a graveside service. Everything had been cleared away. The only reminders were the fresh dirt, the flower arrangements, and a temporary marker.

I grabbed my camera and took a few pictures of the flowers so I could show mom who sent what arrangements. I started pulling the cards, writing a small description on the back so I could match them up to the pictures.

The majority of the flowers had been from friends in Clewiston. Others were from our church, neighbors and family members. To my surprise, several of the departments from my clinic had sent flowers, as well as some of the doctors.

I was down to the last two floral arrangements on display stands, one was in glorious white, with hints of green, with a drawing of angel wings and the words,

on the card.

When I touched the card, I felt the familiar presence of my father nearby. I looked up and thought I saw a very handsome man dressed in all white with a white trench coat, standing several graves away, with his golden blonde hair pulled back against his neck. In an instant, he was gone. I shook my head and dismissed the vision as being a product of stress.

The last arrangement was a beautiful array of peach, pink and yellow roses with green ferns, yellow lilies, and other spring flowers. It smelled heavenly. The card took me by surprise.