Benediction

Oh no. He was only a skinny young single man then. He had been in the army. But the war ended while he was still in training. He never got sent overseas. He felt bad about that. I didn’t. Who knows what might have happened to him.

They left Dad to himself for a while, he seemed to be making some private effort that he had to make, and they went out to the living room where Mary brought them each a cup of coffee. They sat down on the couch and Mary sat in the rocking chair, leaving Dad’s chair by the window empty.

You all just please help yourselves if you want more coffee, Mary said. She sipped at her cup. She looked at Lyle. I don’t think we ever asked you. I guess we just assumed. So I want to ask you now.

Yes? he said.

We’d like you to do the service for Dad, for all of us. At the church.

Lorraine and Berta May looked at her, then at him.

Yes. I’d be honored to do that, he said. But I doubt they’d allow me to perform any kind of service in the church now. I’m not sure I’d want to anyway. We’re going separate ways.

But you still live in the parsonage, Mary said. They’ve allowed that.

They’ve agreed to let me stay two months. So it’s not a clean break. Is that what you mean?

I don’t know what I mean, she said.

Could you perform the service somewhere else? Lorraine said.

Maybe. But it depends. The other churches in Holt wouldn’t want to interfere by hosting it in one of their sanctuaries.

What about the yard here at the house? Lorraine said. We could borrow chairs from somebody, or rent them from George Hill maybe, and have the memorial right here in the shade in the side yard. That might even be better.

Yes, I’ve done services outdoors many times.

What do you think, Mom? It’s up to you.

Well, I don’t know. I haven’t thought about it before. I know Dad sure looked out that window for hours on end. I never understood what he was looking at, but it seemed to give him a lot of pleasure. Yes, it might be just right to have his memorial in the very place he spent so much time looking at.

Could we still do a graveside service at the cemetery afterward? Lorraine said.

Yes, Lyle said. I’m sure we could do that too. That wouldn’t involve any of the churches.

It’s a public cemetery, Berta May said. We pay taxes for its upkeep. Nobody would stop us.

We’ll take care of all the practical details, Lorraine said. If that’s what you decide to do.

Yes, Lyle said. I think so.

Thank you, Mary said. Thank you all.

In the evening Dad woke once and looked around and asked for water. Only Mary and Lorraine were sitting with him now in the bedroom. He stared at Mary for a long time while she held his hand. He stared over at Lorraine, then he pulled his hand back under the blanket and fell into his restless sleep again.

Later that evening, Mary said, I have to go to bed. I can’t sit up any longer.

Do you want me to stay with Dad? You could have my room.

No. I want to be here with him.

You’re not afraid?

Why no. This is my husband. I’ve been with this man most of my life. Over half a century. I know him better than I know anybody else in the world.

But you’re not afraid to be here now.

No, honey. There’s nothing here to scare me. I might be afraid about the future, but not of this man in this room here.

Mom, I’ll be here to help in the future.

I know, dear. Now you should go to bed too.

After Lorraine went upstairs Mary lifted the blanket and slid in beside Dad. He was lying on his back now. She patted his hand under the blanket and rose up to kiss him.

I’m right here. I’m not going anyplace, she whispered. You do what you have to do. Did you hear us talking about you? I hope you didn’t mind.

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