An Unforeseen Turn of Events

Chapter Sixty-Seven

Her whole body was rigid as Christine sat in the front row at the funeral home, a few feet from the casket. The twins, Daniel's parents, Seth, and Heather wept but she only shed silent tears. She still nursed a small hope that this was only a nightmare; she would wake up and Daniel would be lying right beside her—getting ready for another day. Her father planted his solid, comforting hand on her shoulder and she heard her mother blowing her nose behind her. The rabbi was speaking about Daniel's life and virtues while the closed casket lay before the podium.

Before the funeral, the caretaker had asked Christine if she wanted to view the body but she declined. She wanted to remember him as very much alive and vital, there for her and the children. Christine wished she could blot out the memory of his weak gaunt body clinging to the last vestiges of life. She cherished his memory and their happy times together that she wished she could open the wooden casket and welcome him back into their lives.

Neither she nor the twins mentioned Ryan. She had not expected him to attend the funeral. Indeed, it would have been awkward for him to show up—she couldn't even begin to explain his presence there. Christine tried to shut him out of her mind. All she thought about was her happy marriage after all the stress, struggle, and uncertainty in her life Meeting him was nothing short of a miracle after finding herself alone with twin babies. Sure, there were plenty of challenges, but she was able to meet them with Daniel by her side. After every setback, they always lifted each other up and smiled in the end. Until now.

Seth struggled to keep himself composed as he read a tribute to his brother. She felt Tim taking her arm and helping her stand up for the mourners Kaddish, the traditional Jewish prayer for the departed. Daniel's mother cried softly into her tissue and Seth took her in his arms. Daniel's father did not even turn toward his wife; he was too engrossed in his own pain. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw many of Daniel's friends and relatives crying. The funeral director began handing out dozens of tissue boxes.

Christine reflected that even though Daniel had a lot of hard luck in his life, he was beloved and cherished by family and friends.

Then Tim, Seth, and some of Daniel's male relatives and friends lifted the coffin and the rest of the family escorted the casket out of the chapel. She felt the eyes of the attendees watching her tear-stained rigid face following the casket before they followed her out. When they opened the doors, the weather looked dark and cloudy as if the heavens were also mourning Daniel's passing. Trudy and her mother walked beside her.

By the time they arrived at the cemetery, the sky released light rain.

Tim and Trudy kept their heads bowed and one glance informed the other mourners that it would be better not to approach them. Christine held her head up. She had to be the one to accept people offering condolences. She knew there would be plenty of days when she could be as uncommunicative as she would like, but today she had to give the others the opportunity to reach out.

"Oh Daniel! Daniel! Why did you have to go?" his mother wailed. Her husband and Seth reached for her but their pained expressions revealed they were feeling the same. Christine's father put his hands on the twin's shoulders and the mourners kept staring at the ground to avert the rain on their faces as they listened to the rabbi's explanation of why it is considered a mitzvah, a commandment, for people to take turns with the shovel and pile a mound of dirt on top of the grave. Christine kept rubbing her palms. Her hand went over her wedding ring, which she was still unable to relinquish, as if it would keep the reality of Daniel's passing at bay for as long as possible. Her mother leaned on her. She wished she could tell her mother that she needed her space. As Christine eyed her mother, she came to realize her mother was trying to offer support and affection in an effort to make up for the years of distance over Christine's marriage. Still she wished her mother would lean on someone else. She turned and signaled her father; fortunately, he understood and eased her mother into his arms.

Mourners took turns now with the shovel as they dug into the earth and placed piles of dirt on the casket.

As each mound of dirt covered the box, the reality of losing her husband further sank in. Why did life have to take away loved ones so cruelly? How could she go on without Daniel by her side? One glance at the twins reminded her that she would have to find a way, if not for her own sake then for theirs. She closed her eyes, strengthening her resolve that she would not only go on but thrive. Christine and the children would thrive in order to honor Daniel's memory. She was determined to make him proud and continue his legacy as a loving, caring parent.

Christine felt her legs give way as she contemplated the task she set before herself.

"Christine! Christine!" Her father whispered. He rushed over, but fortunately, Heather came over to help her stand.

"It's OK. I've got you," Heather whispered in her ear in a quaking voice. "You're going to get through this."

Christine nodded her thanks while willing herself to stay strong and not fall apart.

By now, mourners had piled up enough dirt to bury the casket.

"Daniel! Don't go! Don't leave us, please!" his mother pleaded at the now unseen coffin.

The rabbi looked around, at a loss over what to do. His words of comfort and the unknowable Divine Plan could not console Daniel's mother. He leaned toward Mrs. Goldberg and said, "He is at peace now. His soul is going up to heaven now that he has left his physical body. He is no longer in any pain."

"But now all I feel is pain! I'll never know peace again," she lifted her face toward heaven. "God, you should've taken me instead! Take me instead of my son!" and she fell on her knees near the grave.

Daniel's father buried his hands in his face and Seth, with his face crumbled in tears and his body shaking, tried to lift his mother, but he could only clutch his mother's shoulder. Fortunately, other people comforted her until she was ready to rise.

"Uncle Daniel didn't want to leave us, Grandma," Rachel said when her grandmother finally rose and stopped to catch her breath. "He'll always be here with us."

Christine found it difficult to breathe. She felt like she was choking and bent down to get air in her lungs. She feared she would get sick in front of everyone. The last thing she wanted to do at her husband's funeral was get sick and embarrass herself and the family.

Rumbling filled the air as dark clouds gathered as if hurrying to end this heartbreaking scene as quickly as possible. Christine and the rabbi glanced above in amazement, their desire for a speedy conclusion answered.

"Mom! Mom! We've got to leave. It's going to thunder," Seth pleaded with his mother, encouraging her to break from her despair and leave the grounds.

"If I get sick and die, it'll be a blessing! I'll be with Daniel again!"

"Don't do that, Grandma! We can't lose both of you!" little Charlie wailed.

Heather rushed over, "Grandma won't do that! She knows we can't handle any more sorrow."

"We need you, Grandma," Trudy reached and clasped her hand. Judy's eyes were still a pool of tears and her face was ravaged with grief, but she took Trudy's hand and in that moment, her eyes conveyed everything words couldn't: yes, she would go on for the sake of her family. Trudy and Tim were still her grandchildren. They placed an arm behind each other's backs as they slowly made their way out the cemetery grounds as more rumblings pierced the air.

"G-goodbye, son. For now," Grandpa said to the grave. Tim and Seth's children held onto him as they left.

"So long for now, brother. I love you," Seth declared to the temporary plaque on the burial site before departing.

Seth and Heather held each other and Christine walked between her parents. For a moment she stopped, looked back at the grave, and said, "Bye, Daniel. I'll always love you." Turning to her parents, she held her head high as she declared, "He was the best thing that ever happened to me."

"We know," her father said.

Her shoulders shook and she burst into tears again.