I Remember (Remembrance Series) by Cynthia P. O'Neill

it would be possible to alter the procession route to the cemetery since it was only a short distance from our house, to allow my father ‘one last trip home,’ since that was his final wish.
    We were happy that we could have the viewing on Sunday, late in the afternoon and burial on Monday morning.
    It was mid-afternoon by the time we got back to the house. Mom lay down on the sofa to nap because it was just too hard to go back into the bedroom she and Dad had shared for twenty-five years.
    Not wanting to disturb her, I went to my room, to call everyone and give them details of the services.
    I called Caroline with the details of the service. I knew they needed me back with Linda leaving soon, but asked for another week off, citing the service, as well as my needing time to grieve and gather my strength before coming back. Thankfully, she agreed.
    My next calls were to friends in Clewiston. It was quite small and almost everyone knew everyone else, so with only a few calls, word would get out of Dad’s passing.
    The last call was reserved for Gregory. I knew I shouldn’t call in the middle of the day, but I wanted to get the conversation over with. Plus, I really needed to hear his voice.
    The phone only rang once. “Jordan, what’s wrong?”
    I tried to hold back my tears, but everything hit me all at once. I started crying and tried to speak, but nothing coherent came out.
    He guessed instantly. “Oh, Jordan, I am so sorry. When?”
    “He passed early this morning. All the details have been set for his viewing Sunday and services on Monday.” My voice was breaking with every word.
    “We will get through this, together.”
    Those words…they were my salvation. “Thanks, Gregory. How did I ever get so lucky to find a good friend like you?”
    “I feel exactly the same way. But, I’m the lucky one!
    “This is probably too soon to ask, but will you be moving back, soon? I worry about your new workload and commute to work.”
    “My mother and I need each other right now to help with our healing. I will probably move back here for a while.” At that moment, I let out a huge yawn. I was exhausted.
    “You need your rest. How about I give you a call later today, if that is ok?”
    “Sure Gregory, talk with you later.”
    “Bye, Jordan.”
    “Bye.”
    Every time I closed my eyes, I had visions of my father gasping for air. When I finally succumbed to sleep, my dreams magnified my father’s death, along with that sinister laugh that seemed to celebrate what I had lost. I kept waking from my nightmares, bolting upright in bed and wanting to scream. Where were Gregory’s protective arms and comforting voice in my dreams?
     

 

     
    I quickly gave up trying to sleep, left mom a note and went for a walk to clear my head.
    It was hard to believe today was the last day of March. This month was one of the saddest of my life.
    The walk definitely did the trick.
    When I walked in the door, I smelled the most beautiful fragrance and spotted a huge bouquet of flowers.
    “Where did the flowers come from?”
    “Your Uncle Henry sent them. Aren’t they lovely?” Mom was almost ready to cry.
    I quickly went over and gave her a hug. “They’re beautiful!”
    The arrangement was breathtaking, comprised of a dozen long stemmed red roses interspersed with stargazer lilies. It took up almost the entire top of the chest in the living room.
    As I went to smell them, the phone rang. I was quick to answer it, trying to keep Mom from having to deal with too much, today.
    “Mom, it’s Aunt Melinda. Are you up to talking right now?”
    “Thanks, Honey. I’ll take it.”
    Mom went into the family room, while I took a seat on the sofa in the living room to watch the world pass by outside. I took comfort in knowing that Dad had often sat in this very spot, doing the same thing. I knew he was gone, but it felt like his presence was still here, watching over us, somehow.
    There were several flower deliveries and phone calls before