Ch. 8: A Shameful Musing
Lily stood paralysed, fixated on the two coffins before her. They held things (or people, she wasn't sure which) that were dear to her. She stood not ten feet away from the coffins and yet the distance spread before her like a canyon.
So very close, yet so far away. The irony stung.
It was a small service, attended only by Vernon, Petunia, James and herself. The unease between the sisters was sorely felt. Neither acknowledged each other. Not that either sister was aware, each lost in thought and grief.
To Lily, the monotonous voice of the priest was oddly soothing, wrapping her in a fog of thoughts. Nothing was clear. Nothing was real. Focusing on elementary senses overwhelmed her. Oddly, Lily focused on the trees in the distance...A part of her wanted to despair for them. In the height of spring, the fresh leaves danced...but she knew they would die; crushed mercilessly by their brothers and sisters; one by one, they too will fall.
She hiccoughed and wiped away tears that fell. Lily was crying for the trees...not for her parents. Lily had no reason to cry for her parents. Those things, for that was all the coffins contained, were not her parents.
She could still recall the stubborn set in her mothers jaw, the determined, perseverance in her fathers' eyes, and the memories of the happy home that they created for her. It was enough, for now. Her parents lived, by their characteristics, by their traits, in the values that they had nurtured in their daughter.
Lily stirred from one foot to the other. The trees seemed different. The leaves will indeed die, but they would in turn feed the new shoots...reincarnated the following spring. Lily chuckled at her ineffectiveness, feeling her chest constrict. The chuckle broke into a sob, breaking the silence that had fallen over the group. She covered her mouth, desperate to silence her blunder.
James' arm slid around her, holding her shaking body. From crying or laughing she couldn't tell. Lily didn't want him there...James wasn't enough. The crushing reality suffocated her. Those weren't things. They were her parents, and she needed them. She needed the whiff of her mothers' perfume. She needed the safety of her fathers' arms. The memories were not enough.
Please Review...this is like the second installment of ch. 7...PLEASE REVIEW...all your comments are appreciated!