Page 55 - Reason To Sing by Kelita Haverland

Chapter Eight

Did you know it was her birthday? Oh, my, no. Isn’t that
terrible?

We gather around my father’s graveside and take one last
look into the big hole. Empty. This is where Daddy’s remains
will be forever more. I loathe this part.
My little sister Vian is sobbing noticeably now. I try my
best to comfort her by wrapping my arm around her waist. She
is only 8. I’m not sure she understands everything that’s going
on.
We watch silently as the casket is lowered into the ground.
Is this really all there is to the end of a life? I hate this part
of death more than anything else. The utter emptiness. The
finality.
Daddy’s two sisters are each carrying a bouquet of long-
stemmed red roses. They pass out a rose to every family member
on Daddy’s side. My Aunt Violet then walks to me and hands
me a single red rose. “Here you go, Honey,” she whispers softly.
How thoughtful. But I already know what her next move will
be. Without a glance or any hesitation, she passes right by
Mommy and places another rose in Vian’s hand. I can’t help
but cringe. Poor Mommy.
Slowly, one by one, each family member places a rose on
Daddy’s coffin. It is meant to be a sentimental gesture but to
me it feels more like a show. My mother keeps her head held
high, but I feel shame and humiliation. There have been rumors
that my father’s side of the family is placing blame for his death
on my mother. This very public display confirms it. But it can’t
be true. Can it?
Vian and I are the last to offer our roses. My last contact
with Daddy. For forever. I whisper, “I love you, Daddy. I miss
you. I will always miss you.”

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