Santos and I were washing dishes and Eli said he needed to take a shower. It turned out we all forgot to shower for a couple days. And I had even run all the way to Mrs. Glass’s house. I guess you get a free pass to smell bad when your mom kills herself cause nobody said anything about it.
The doorbell rang, and Santos ran to open it. He did such a good job taking care of us. The door closed again, and I heard Santos interrogating someone outside.
“Stop. Suicides. Do they go to hell?”
“Of course not, can I come in?”
“Yes, right answer.” I couldn’t help but start laughing. I loved how much Santos was trying to help Eli and me.
I dried off my hands and walked to the door. It was the pastor from the new church. I guess she passed Santos’s test cause she was sitting on the couch. Santos sat on the floor by where the TV goes, and I told Eli she was there. I thought it might be funny to not tell Eli cause after he showered he would sometimes come out into the living room in just his boxers. I couldn’t do that to the poor pastor though. Not after she drove all that way and had to pass Santos’s test.
Eli got ready quickly and came and sat in his brown stained chair. He said sorry for the delay. The pastor said it was okay, we were just talking about what we had for dinner.
We just sat kind of quietly for a bit. “Hey pastor?” I figured if nobody had anything to say I could ask a question.
She nodded, “Yes?”
“Any idea where my mom is?” I figured it was a long shot, but I had to ask.
She told me it’s hard to be certain, but after Jesus died he visited people who had died. That after people die, their spirits go somewhere and then sometimes they get resurrected. “But,” she looked like she wanted to make an important point, “I think we get caught up in that sometimes. It’s a good thing to be curious about what happens after we die, but it’s best to live in the present.” She talked about how this life is a gift from God, and how even when bad things happen we should embrace it.
She started saying the kinds of things Mrs. Glass told me the other night. “Even sadness and grief are precious gifts. We completely waste them if we try to avoid them or push them down. You’re gonna be feeling a lot of things. Probably angry, confused, and especially sad. When those feelings happen, try and really feel them.”
We must have looked confused. I guess she figured, especially cause she was talking about feelings to a room of Texas men. She kept explaining, “Do you like coffee?”
We nodded. My mom didn’t like coffee, said the smell made her dizzy. I really miss her.
“When we’re young, we just like a few flavors. You know how kids like to eat candy and chicken nuggets, but they don’t like more complicated food?”
We nodded. Eli was really listening. I never thought I’d catch Eli putting up with someone talking about feelings in his house, let alone talking to him.
“Emotions are kind of like that. When we get older, we learn emotions aren’t just happy or sad, but they’re complicated. And that can be a beautiful thing.” She started getting choked up. “We’re all gonna miss your mom. She was — still is — one of God’s beautiful children and we were blessed to know her.”
We sat there for a bit and mostly just looked at the floor. She was right, I thought. My mom was a damn good person and it felt right to sit around together and just miss her.
The next few days I don’t remember very well. We mostly just started doing the farm work again. I guess Santos had been taking care of the really important stuff while I just sat in my room. He was really thoughtful like that.
Then the funeral came around. I always hated funerals. This one was the worst. Eli took me and Santos to town and bought us both black dress shirts. Right before the funeral, they had a coffin open with my mom in it. I realized I hadn’t seen her since the ambulance ride.
“It’s not really her, is it?” Eli said, putting his arm around me. I remembered the horrible ambulance ride and started feeling pretty dizzy. I remember making to a bathroom and puking. When I was done I got myself all cleaned up and went back. Just an upset stomach, I told Eli. He said don’t worry, he felt sick too.
They had me give a eulogy. They said just say whatever I need to say. Before we got there I wrote down what I wanted to say. I didn’t have to work too hard to write it. It just felt right when I was thinking it. Kind of like how it’s not that hard to write this.
I told a couple stories she told me from when she was young. I was gonna tell the story about the paper airplanes but for some reason I just couldn’t. It felt so wrong. I told the story about making pickles with Santos, and how she was good at taking care of hurt people. I didn’t even care that it probably made Eli mad. I didn’t tell the part about him anyway. I talked about how she hated the smell of coffee but let us make it before the farm work anyway. I said she made the best food, and everyone laughed when I said we’d been living off my bad grilled cheeses for the last few days. I talked about how much she liked Mrs. Glass, and that Mrs. Glass thought of her like a daughter. I talked about how she was the one that made our house feel comfortable and happy.
People were smiling when I was done. I think I was smiling too. I mostly made it through the whole thing without crying. It felt good to remember her like that. When I remember those things now, I’m not just happy. Now I feel a whole bunch of things, like the pastor said. I think it’s what people mean when they say something is bittersweet.
When we were finished with the speeches, we rode in a car from the funeral home and all sat on chairs that were set up in the cemetery. The pastor said a prayer and then we left. We just walked away with my mom’s casket sitting on some two-by-fours over a hole.
We drove home, and the ride was silent. What the hell do you talk about after a funeral?