Back at the church, Stephen looked around and examined the warm tones and soft color schemes designed to enhance the spacious sanctuary. There was pleasantness in the surroundings but the real estate appraiser in him couldn’t help but begin making estimates. His keen eye observed the quality of fixtures, the contours of the craftsmanship, the apparent extra expenditure for architectural design work, nearly offset by misaligned corners which spoke to shoddy drywall placement and a contractor who had probably cut too many corners. Whatever spiritual element was supposed to be present, Stephen could see no further appeal beyond the value of the building. But for some reason all this meant something to Rebecca. It meant a lot to her and while he knew this church was the thing that brought such a dramatic change into her life, it frustrated him that he of all people, couldn’t see what she had seen within these walls. He couldn’t feel what she had felt.
Looking across pews of mourners, he pushed away distant memories asking to come in. They were too much. There were too many for him to not get lost in the shell of them. So he pushed them away. He pushed away the laughter he and Rebecca had over a collapsing lemonade stand. He pushed away their contractually bound pinky swear not to tell his father about staying up way after bedtime watching The Late Show and eating Oreos together in her bed. He pushed away the warm embrace she gave his broken body in that hospital bed the moment she could know for certain he was alive. He hadn’t been aware of how desperately he needed that embrace until that moment; the moment of comfort from her arms he had hoped would never end. There were too many memories with too high an entry price to let any of them stay so he let them wash over him and one by one, he let them drift away. His thoughts settled back to the building.
Why was this place so important to her?
Let it go. She’s gone. Quit trying to figure it out and instead, just deal with it.
Several friends in grief gently touched his arm with offers of condolences as they passed the Lantz family. The pews of the church were filled, with many attendees patiently taking a place in the back and standing against the tiled wall. Stephen led his family to the front row where an elderly man serving as an usher carefully held up the gold and red cord for their reserved seating. He recognized the man as one of the many visitors who had come to see Hailey while she had been in the hospital.
With eyes which told the story of one who had done this job more times than he cared to remember, the usher met Stephen’s shoulder with a tender but purposeful grip. “Stephen, I’m very sorry for you and your family’s loss. She was a great friend who served everyone with a really big heart. I don’t know if you’re aware of how special your mother was to this congregation. She was a reflection of the Lord’s work within us and she wanted others to reflect His love. I tell ya, your mother was a rock and we’re going to miss her dearly.” He was steady, sincere, and had the trusted voice of someone narrating a documentary.
“Thank you.” was all Stephen could murmur.
The gentleman leaned in, “Son,” he continued, “she’s with the Lord now, some place she genuinely looked forward to being. But I want you to know we’re here for you.” Still gripping Stephen’s shoulder, he looked around at the crammed pews, many of the faces were staring back at them. “We’re all here for you.”
Stephen was uncomfortable having so many people looking at him but there was a reassurance delivered by their sympathetic and unassuming faces. “Thank you very much. I know she loved this church,” he replied, shaken to his core, but deeply touched by the care and concern which accompanied the man’s sympathetic words.
As Stephen helped Hailey out of her wheelchair and into the pew, he took note at how the entire chancel had been converted into a makeshift nursery. A splattering of color from flowers of all shapes and sizes combined in different arrangements. Each bore a personal card Stephen would eventually get around to asking Sarah to read. For now, he stared at the oversized picture of his mother in the center and he felt a swelling in his eyes. The portrait was beautiful and the smile on Rebecca’s face across the canvas illuminate the floral arrangement in the same manner her service had done for those who knew her.
Tom was already seated in the pew when Hailey shifted over and snuggled in next to him. Tom’s face remained emotionless and drifted ahead with the same blank stare Stephen had seen for years. He couldn’t tell what his father was thinking. There was no way of telling how Tom would respond to the loss of his bride of nearly fifty-five years. The man was clearly aware of Rebecca’s passing but how much he could understand was immeasurable. Questions filled Stephen’s mind about his father’s care.
What would the future look like for him? Would he be lonely? Did he know things would have to change?
Stephen had become concerned about how he would take care of his father. He certainly couldn’t continue to live in his house anymore, not by himself. What would happen to his father’s home? What could happen? There might be an opportunity to sell the house and use the money to pay for a caregiver to help Tom. But Stephen had grown up in that home. He had watched his father build, repair and improve the house of years of labor and skill. He knew how much his father loved the home and to give it up would be devastating to the already crushed man. Besides, being Stephen’s home it was a place where Tom crafted life’s memories in his more youthful days. A time when his body did what it was instructed and forged hammer and nail to build a porch, a deck, a sunroom. Stephen knew that Tom’s house was a part of him that the aging, withering man needed to hold on to. And now, it would be the keepsake for those memories of his wife. Selling the home while Tom was alive was not an option.
Stephen knew what needed to happen. His father would have to move in with them. He wondered how Tom would adjust. Could Tom accept living under his son’s roof and authority? What would change in their relationship? Would this ailing man, now only a shell of his once physical greatness, who was stubborn in his ways before the debilitating stroke, tolerate abiding by everyone else’s schedules?
Besides a helpmate, nurse and companion, Rebecca was Tom’s primary driver for not just appointments but leisure interests Tom was still prone to enjoying. Or rather, those Rebecca had said he enjoyed. Stephen wondered how much his father really enjoyed the museum or botanical gardens and how much his inability to contest made him the perfect companion for Rebecca on various outings. Whether he enjoyed the arts or hated them was simply irrelevant now. Stephen knew that a very real question was whether Tom could adjust to losing a large amount of his independence. Stephen worked from home but they still only had one car. He was already pressuring Sarah to be quick dropping Hailey off at school or to doctor appointments because he needed to be a presence at appraisal sites or client meetings. His mind immediately went to the prospect of Sarah using his parent’s car now that it was freed up. As an added benefit, if she used their car then there was less opportunity for his father, whose license had long since been revoked due to his medical condition, to take off and go joy riding as he was prone to do sometimes.
What a loving son. At my mother’s funeral and I’m already planning the takeover.
Regardless of the house or the car, one thing was for sure, that marathon race that Ray wanted him to run was off the table. There was too much to do, too many logistics, too many details and too little energy. There were bound to be other opportunities.
Sarah briefly gripped Stephen’s hand before letting go and quietly slid in next to Hailey. Sadness for his mother and fondness for his wife poured over Stephen. He resolved that Tom had to be aware of the circumstances. While the stroke had left him severely diminished, Stephen felt confident that Tom fully understood the gravity of the current situation. Looking at his father he could see that no thoughts were being given to the future though; no concern for upcoming changes. Stephen knew Tom’s distant stare was lost in the singular thought of just how much the man already missed his beloved wife.