“Mom, please. Come with me,” I begged. I put my arms around my mother, holding her. Finally, she turned into me and buried her face into my shirt. She began to sob as though she were the child and I were the parent there to comfort her.
I didn’t know when I would be afforded he luxury of letting my emotions out like that, so for now, I bottled it in and took care of the woman who needed me.
Over her shoulder, I chanced a look at my father. It’s true what they say, that death looks like sleep. Aside from the white pallor of his skin, Dad looked as though he were napping. The tubes and wires were gone. The machines had been turned off. The covers on his bed were pulled up over his chest as though he were chilly.
It was creepy and a discomfort filled me, making me look away and turn my attention back to my grieving mother.
“Can we go home?” I asked her and then I waited. After what felt like forever, she got to her feet, wiped her face and then slowly lifted my dad’s hand to her lips. I turned away, feeling like an intruder on this last moment she would have with her husband. The last time she would feel his skin on hers. The last look at the face that had been her constant companion for over forty years.
I went to the doorway and waited and thought long and hard about what it meant to love someone to the point of losing yourself when they were gone. I hadn’t loved Damien like that. Even though I had been upset and put out when he dumped me, I could recognize now that it was more about my wounded pride and being made to feel like a fool than anything else.
Yes, I had loved him. Yes, he had been a part of my life for over a year so of course I had been attached. But I had gone on without him. I had bounced back.
What had grown between my mom and dad over the years went beyond a love I had ever experienced. And even though I knew my mother would go on with her life, she would never truly heal from losing my dad. A loss like that wasn’t something you could get over. Not really. You just learned to live through the pain.
It scared me to think of loving someone so much that to lose them would be to only half exist.
My mother followed me out to the waiting room and the first thing my eyes were drawn to was Garrett, looking at pictures on my sister’s phone. He seemed impassive as usual while Felicity prattled on about her daughters. He nodded and made comments but his face revealed nothing.
Gavin jumped to his feet and rushed over to Mom. Felicity looked up and was then right behind our brother, clamoring to get to our mother. Garrett stayed seated, his calm, mellow vibe a balm on my jangled nerves.
He didn’t approach me. He simply inclined his head in my direction and gave me a small smile. I didn’t return it. I didn’t know how to right then. But I inclined my head back before turning back to my family.
I stayed in Port David for almost two weeks. Dad’s funeral had been scheduled for a week after his passing. Then I stayed around to make sure Mom was settled and doing okay.
The funeral was tough, just as I knew it would be. If I could imagine a hell, watching my father be lowered into the ground had to be it. In the first few hours after Dad died, I wasn’t sure if Mom would be able to make it on her own. She had seemed so small, as though she had shrunk in on herself.
My brother and sister hadn’t been much better. My brother seemed lost and all my sister did was cry. It got better when Felicity’s husband, Sam, showed up with the girls. My sister pulled herself together for her kids and Sam helped shoulder the load of planning Dad’s service.
But I had gone into autopilot. Just call me Robo-Riley, because my emotions had gone into hibernation. There was no room at the inn for feeling sad and sorry for myself. I had to pull up my big girl panties and help my family in the way only Riley Walker could.