One Love, One Life

Over hill and dale, down and up memory lane, for the past 48 hours. Sunday I prepared myself for going to the service for Dick but because of common dyslexia, I read the obituary once more, only to see the funeral would be Monday. It said nothing about calling hours. So I did the Sunday thing-- like office work, baking, cleaning, getting the "New York Times"-- then I dropped on the couch at L'Elizabeth's to make sense of it. Almost always it all comes together and I'm at peace with the world. Kim called to see how I was doing. She also told me there would be calling hours 7:00 to 9:00 Sunday. I made my plans to go this evening, with or without Jay. As I was dressing in my hot suit, Jay rang the bell. He looked and acted fine. He needed a jacket, so I called Harry. Good old Harry. Harry returned my call before you could say, "pumpernickel." He had four or five jackets waiting for Jay to try on, along with shoes and a tie, and socks too. He even fixed my hem that was falling down. When we got to the wake, I was in good space, and all indications were that Jay was too. Dick's brother was always an "up" person. He and his up-wife were at the door making our opening experiences very comfortable. The casket was closed with an American flag draped over it. The woman, whom I assume was Dick's wife, looked like a small woman. There were two young men standing beside her. All three were in black. The boys wore no jackets. Jay never did stand in that reception line, nor do I believe he had to. I signed my name in the book then talked to Randy and his up-wife for a while. I then walked up to the closed casket and talked to the pine box like I guess most people do. Raised myself up and went over to the group in black. I expressed my feelings to the woman in black and told her who I was: Jay's mother. She had a genuine expression of gladness to see me and said how nice it was that I had come. My eyes went directly to Dick's two sons. The looks we gave one another were kind of like pieces of a puzzle we had lost. There were more exchanges of what was happening in our lives. We said goodnight, see you tomorrow. Jay and I talked some more when we got home, then said goodnight again, and went to bed. It wasn't long before the church chimes rang five times. Jay dressed and drove to the airport to get his suit. I made my bed, dressed, went to the office, and opened my Monday morning meeting. The coffee shop was empty which was a nice change. Window table, "Times" and my black smack. It was a great day and I was looking good. Most of all I was at peace; serenity I think they call it. It occurred to me that this serenity was the by-product of years of mental practice for this day. My ladies invited me to sit with them, anxious to hear about my New York trip. They got their ears full, and I was off to the funeral. Jay was out in front when I pulled up. I did not question this but went in and took a seat. This time the casket was open explaining why Jay was outside. Our names were called by the funeral director, and I walked outside to meet Jay where the caravan started up. Soon we were in the church. Dick's wife and two sons were in the first rows, Jay and I in the second. Watching those boys, I could see so many of their father's genes: the stance, comb in the back pocket, dark black hair, their expressions and the serenity I remembered Dick had. Two wives out of three and three sons, not a bad tribute. There weren't more than twenty-five people in all at the service. After the service, we went to the cemetery. Again, I said nothing to Jay about whether we were going or not. We just got in the car and went like it was the natural thing to do. This is where this military ritual took place. Two soldiers stood like palace guards outside the mausoleum. The priest gave us a few more words. Then the man in charge of the funeral came over to Dick's wife and sons; he held her hand to prepare them for the guns that would be going off. After the salute the taps were played. His wife of course broke down. Taps made my mind go directly to Frank Sinatra in "From Here to Eternity" and "Gunga Din" with Cary Grant. The two soldiers now took their places by the casket. They removed the flag and proceeded to fold it. When that was done it was handed to the widow with sincere condolences from the President of the United States and the Governor of the State of Rhode Island. The soldiers saluted her, stepped back and left. We gathered again outside the church. Jay's second brother, who was 34, drove with us. As we talked, he opened up very quickly. For a long time, he told us, he had problems with anxiety, and would often call Jay over the years for direction and comfort. Today he takes some kind of pills and goes to group therapy. Dick's second wife could have been alcoholic and this sons' custody was given to him. Soon after, Dick married his third wife bringing this son into that marriage so it was natural for him to call her Mum after 31 years. Well anyway, as we talked, he told us about his process in recovery. When he mentioned Dick's drinking, that he would get mean sometimes, all things were clear. Almost 40 years later, I realize that Dick was an alcoholic just like me. It wasn't Dick hurting me, it wasn't the absence of his father that caused his mood changes, it was the substance.

Copyright; Ruth Mahoney Sep-88