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READS
RINGS
Cindy, Kathy and Julie, Ginger's best friends, left the viewing early and went to Dad's to warm some food for us. We remained with Ginger for a few minutes after the last attendants left. Dad and I ended up together next to her, not really knowing what to say or do or how to act. I imagine Dad was trying to reason with himself that it was time to leave is wife here while he went home. Justin was nearby and I remember Dad asking him "Did you ever just want to scream 'It's not fair!' like a little kid?"
Earlier in the evening, I hadn't really had the mental prescence to think to complain to an employee about Ginger's make-up. Now that the place was vacant of people for whom I felt obligated to smile, I asked Dad if he was satisfied with the way Ginger looked. He said a solid "No."
I felt so insensitive. Why would he be satisfied with how she looked in a casket? How could he be? She was wearing the last dress she would ever wear to be seen for the last few hours before she would be put in the ground. She was only 57. They vowed to grow old together and that vow was just...gone. What was there to be satisfied with?
I quickly tried to convey my meaning without being too blunt. "Aside from the obvious, Daddy, are you happy with the way she looks?" He gave me another 'no' and he began to cry. I went to find the man in charge of make-up.
We freed ourselves from the funeral home and went to Dad's where Cindy, Kathy and Julie had put out a bowl of chips, turned on some music and warmed the food that neighbors and friends had brought by over the past day or so. They had let the dogs out and lit some candles. It amazed me that their best friend had died, but they were doing anything they thought of that needed to be done.
Tami and Effie didn't stay long--maybe until 9--before they got on the road for Tami's house for the night. Ginger's friend's stayed on with us until about midnight. We sat around the dining room table, drinking and laughing, telling stories about Ginger.
At one point, Dad asked Justin to bring me in the living room. We went and Dad had Justin push 'play' on the CD player on his way back to the kitchen. Dad stood me up as the first strains of Garth Brooks' "The Dance" began.
"All my pain, all my tears...they're worth the dance with her, Meggie."
We swayed gently through the song. When it ended, he sat me down and told me about their last few hours together, up until he had called 911, screaming for help, and dropped the phone to perform CPR.
design by fergie
Bits of fire in the sky push me east back home. I used to live in flames
but it's hard on the wings. Choke me. Smoke me. Scare me back. You try
but you just can't. I peel the layers in my spare time, and you're easy
to see through. I can fly, I've discovered on my own. I may be the lesser
butterfly but my wings are just as strong. Who are you to tell me to find
a place to land? I may be the lesser butterfly but baby watch me glide.
