Grandeur

Chapter Seven

In the event of the death of a loved one, family members must be prompt in planning a memorial and funeral service. Whereas once it was seen as proper to host services in one's home, now it was deemed distasteful. It is imperative that the deceased member's church hosts the event. It is imperative that the funeral service be worthy of the deceased member's wealth level. It is common for higher-class members of society to have larger, more opulent services than those of lesser means. In the day, or days, leading up to the service, it is customary for immediate members of the family to receive visitors to express their sympathy or to receive letters saying such.

-Mary Smith, "Death and Mourning Etiquette"

Elizabeth escorted me quickly out of the bedroom, but not before the image of Mother was engrained into my mind forever. We quickly made our way to the parlor where she sat me down and joined beside me. We each sat in silence for a long time. I didn't know what to say, and I assumed she didn't either. We each let quiet streams of tears run down our cheeks.

I could faintly hear the doctor and Aunt Edith upstairs talking, possibly figuring out what next steps to do. I turned to Elizabeth then, suddenly realizing she was now the head of our family.

She looked strong, like she had been preparing for this. The wetness on her cheeks didn't make her seem weak. Her jaw was set strongly and she barely showed any signs of distress. I was in awe of her in that moment.

It may have been minutes later but it felt like hours when the doctor and Aunt Edith eventually came downstairs. She was still visibly shaken, but the doctor wished her well and told her to contact him if she needed anything. He gave Elizabeth and I a stern nod before leaving the house.

Edith stayed a moment in the doorway, watching him leave before slowly turning into the parlor room to us. Her eyes and nose were a puffy red and her dress was a crumpled mess in her hands. She walked into the room and sat in the chair she must have been sitting in before. She pushed her tea away and sighed, staring into the empty fireplace.

Again, all of us were silent, unsure of what to say but all knowing that Mother was upstairs, lifeless.

"I'm so sorry girls," Aunt Edith said a few minutes later. She still didn't look at us, but her voice was sympathetic. "The doctor thought she had more time."

Elizabeth shook her head. "What happened?"

Edith sighed, now turning to look at us. "She began to take a turn for the worse late last night. Ethel went to extinguish the fire in her room's fireplace but realized your mother was having a harder time breathing." My heart tightened, wanting to hear but at the same time wanting to run out of the room. "She was nearly gasping for air. She woke me and I sent her for the doctor right away. He got here around dawn. By then the bout had settled somewhat but she was still having difficulty."

"Was she awake?" I asked quietly.

Edith shook her head. "The medication he gives her is very strong. She felt no pain. Diana, I wanted to give you and your sister one more day together before bearing this heavy weight on either of your shoulders so I told Ethel to call on you tomorrow to pay your final respects but..."

My throat was constricting and I wondered if that was what Mother had felt. My eyes stung and my vision blurred.

"She held on for you, Diana," Edith said. "I'm sure of that. She knew."

It was those words that cracked my final wall and the weight of everything crushed me down. I closed my eyes and let the water from my eyes fall onto my new dress; the dress I had bought to impress Mother.