The Day Has Come (Counting on Hockey #4)

Chapter 15: You Have to be Joking

"Mom", I say into the phone. "This isn't very funny. Don't tell us things like this".

"Meredith Adams. Why the hell would I be joking about that. He's dead", my mother yells into phone at my sister and I. "Your father is dead. He was in a car accident".

Cara and I look at each other, and both of us burst out crying. My chest starts to feel like it was just lit on fire, I can't breathe, and each racking sob hurts my entire body. I look over at Cara and see that she is in the same position, utterly speechless. A headache ignites in my head and all the memories of my father come back in one giant tidal wave of sorrow. I can hear mom on the other line trying to keep calm but her shaky breaths give her away. I slide down to the floor and cradle my knees. Cara does the same and wraps tense arm around me. We cry together for what seems like hours until all of our tears are gone. 

I sniff one last time before asking "What are we going to do?..." In a distraught voice. Only silence follows and I evaluate our pathetic situation. I can't believe this has happened. I always thought we would be a tight family forever, or at least till we all had grand kids. But that's all been taken away by one careless driver. 

Cara next to me has removed her arm and is holding her face in her hands and whispering sadly "No, no, no, no, nooo..."

"Honies, we're home", the guys call from the front door. Our sobs lead them to us in the kitchen. "Oh my god".

Cole's arm wrap around me as Matt pulls Cara from me. I cry into Cole's shoulder and he coos me. His hand holds the back of my neck and pulls me closer to him. "Meredith, tell me what happened".

"Dad is dead", I say before letting out another body racking sob. Cole pulls me tighter to him.

I'm never going to feel safe again. Not without my father on the planet.

~~~~~~~~~~

"Now for Randy's youngest daughter, Meredith", the pastor says into the microphone of the giant church for my father's funeral. I take a deep breath, wipe another tear from my face and walk to the podium in front of almost 300 people. That was the largest amount of people Cara, Mom, and I agreed on to attend the private funeral.

"Thank you for coming to the remembrance of my father, Randy Clayton Adams", I start, laying down the piece of paper with my eulogy on it. "My dad, a legend, a husband, and the greatest father any girl could ever ask for. I knew at a young age that him as a dad was different because of who he was. He taught me that everyone was special in their own way, and that's what made people stand out. Every two years, my father would write an updated letter to each my sister and I, so, as my of my speech to you, I would like to read parts of the letter that he updated just a few months ago".

I open the next piece of paper that my father had hand written for me. I read over the first part, then get to the part I want to read aloud. "My father goes on to say: My daughter, you're a strong, fierce, young woman who is an engaged to a strong willed, intelligent young man. If you have to read this before your wedding day, just know that while I will not be there in a physical being to walk you down the aisle, I will be with you in spirit and in your mind. If I don't physically get to walk you down the aisle, remember, with your heart, soul, and mind, you have to choose the right person to walk with you to the alter where you will wed the person you're meant to be with. You will remember who walks you down that aisle for the rest of your life, as the person who gave you to the man you were meant to be with".

I go onto read more of the letter when he starts to talk about my future without him, and how he wants everything in my life to be my choice. I start to cry again, but they're not so much tears of sadness, as tears of pure relief. My father agrees with everything I've done and everything I'm doing. I finish my five minutes eulogy and sit back down next to Cole and my sister. More people give their short eulogies about my dad. The pastor says one finally word and says that the remembrance is over. The family is asked to go up to the casket one last time to say their last words.

Cole holds my hand as we walk up the two stairs to where the casket is. The body my father once lived in was in the wooden box, the interior covered in a silky fabric. My father's face is covered in half healed bruises and scratches, though makeup tries to cover it up. We take one last look at my fathers body, the six of us. Cole, Mom, Cara, Matt, uncle Richard, and I stare at the body that once held the spirit of my father. Memories still flood in of him as a man closes the lid to the casket once we were finished our words.

Goodbye Daddy.