Reunited Paths: A Father's Journey (Harvey Specter ff)

Honoring Her Memory

The next morning, Harvey sat at the dining table, the sun barely peeking over the horizon. He always worked best during these quiet hours, but today the silence felt heavy. Papers were scattered all over the dining table, he had already chugged his morning coffee, hoping it would steady his nerves. He was wearing a sweater and khakis—not as put-together as his usual suits, but not as comfy as pajamas either. His clothes needed to reflect the task at hand or he wouldn't be able to put in the correct amount of effort. He rolled up his sleeves, and he braced himself for the heart-wrenching task of going through his wife's will and funeral instructions.

He thought it would be best to just dive in, believing it would get easier once he opened the first file and began reading. But willing himself to actually open it was more difficult than he had imagined. He stared at the table in front of him, unsure of where to begin. The weight of her absence pressed down on him, making every movement feel heavier than it was. His brother, Marcus, had offered to help him plan the funeral but Harvey insisted that it was something he had to do alone. It was the only way Harvey could finally have a sense of closure. He hasn't been around to take care of her the last few years, the most he could do was plan the best memorial service for her.

He took a deep breath, picking up the first paper, his hands trembling as he unfolded it. The title at the top of the page read, "Letter of Instructions". It had started by naming him power of attorney and his information, followed by all her information. He skimmed over the sections until he landed on "Funeral and Burial".

He felt a lump form in his throat as he read her final wishes. She had wanted a very small intimate ceremony surrounded by people that meant the world to her. The simplicity of her request spoke volumes about the kind of person she was—humble, loving, and always thinking of others. Harvey found himself lingering on every word, feeling the her absence more and more with each sentence.

There had been a note at the end of the section, it read, "Harvey, I had a hard time writing this part, but you always knew me best. Please make sure everything is simple and filled with love." He could almost hear her voice, as he read those lines. He close his eyes for a second longer than a blink, he let out a small breath before continuing.

She had ended the note with "I'll love you forever." Those words hit a nerve in his heart, sending a wave of raw emotion through him. They used to say it to each other at the end of every phone call in the early dating stages. He had been living in New York, and she was in Colorado. The distance made it rocky at first, but they made it work. They spent every ounce of free time on the phone, calling one another like hopeless teenagers in love. The memory of those late-night conversations, filled with laughter and whispered promises, now felt like a beautiful, painful echo of what they once had.

He remembered the last time he had said those words to her, right after the divorce.  Harvey had stepped out the door with a handful of boxes. Mike had been at school so it had been just them. She didn't walk him out, just left the door open and told him to shut it on the way out. He had whispered, "I'll love you forever." as he walked away. He wasn't sure she ever heard it, but some part of him hoped that she did. The sweet memories of their beginning now mixed with the pain of their ending, leaving him with an ache he couldn't shake.

Harvey's eyes welled up with tears, and he took a moment to compose himself. The last act of love he could offer was getting every detail of her memorial just right. As he continued to read through her instructions, he found himself both comforted and overwhelmed by the responsibility.

He started with the flowers; that was an easy one. She had always loved lilies.

He remembered their first date vividly, showing up at her door with a bouquet of lilies in hand. Her face had lit up with pure joy, and she had squealed with excitement when she saw him holding them. That moment had always stuck with him. She had let it slip that she loved lilies, but Harvey was never quite sure if she loved them because they reminded her of him or if she had always adored lilies even before they met. Either way, the information led to the same result: he always made sure to get her lilies.