"You promised Reuben and Martha you'd go," Elizabeth reminded her daughter.
"I know." Laura shuddered. "But I've never even been inside a funeral home before!"
"You won't be alone," Elizabeth reminded her. "Reuben and Martha will be right there with you, and you know Stephen would want you to be there."
"I know." Her stomach was still twisted in knots. The whole idea of helping plan Stephen's funeral overwhelmed her.
She heard the car's horn and knew the Bishops were there to pick her up. She hugged her mother goodbye and ran outside to greet them.
Little was said on the way to the funeral home. Martha asked how the twins were. Laura told her they were fine.
The funeral director, Mr. Steele, met them at the door. He was a kindly but solemn man of about thirty-five who was dressed all in black. As he greeted the family and shook their hands, the knowledge that Stephen would never look that old hit Laura like a fist in the stomach.
Mr. Steele led them through the dimly lit lobby to a small office. They passed several closed doors on the way. Laura couldn't help wondering which room held Stephen's body.
Once inside the office, Mr. Steele sat behind a desk while the Bishops and Laura sat across from him in comfortable chairs.
For about twenty minutes, the funeral director asked for documentation such as Stephen's birth certificate and military record. Following that was a lengthy discussion in which the date and time of the visitation and the funeral were decided upon and the service was arranged. Then Mr. Steele led them to a large room filled with caskets.
He went from one to another, talking about the special features of each one. Laura understood very little of what he was talking about. She felt like she was on the set of a horror movie.
The family finally decided upon a rose-colored casket. Laura was glad it wasn't black.
When she reached home, all she wanted to do was sleep.
The visitation was the following night. Laura left the twins with the neighbor and went back to the funeral home, with her parents this time. The open casket rested in front of one wall, and several sofas and chairs were across from it. Martha took Laura's arm and directed her to an upholstered chair right beside the head of the casket.
Laura sat there staring at her husband's pale face and thinking about how much he looked like a wax doll.
Friends and relatives filed past, offering their condolences. Max cried openly, his chest wracked with sobs as tears rolled from his eyes.
"He was my best friend," he choked out. "My best friend! How am I ever supposed to go on without him?"
Paul and Elizabeth put their arms around their son and led him to one of the sofas.
"He was one of the finest employees it was ever my pleasure to know," Matthias told Reuben and Martha.
Many of Stephen's former teachers and classmates shared amusing or touching anecdotes from his school days.
By the time she left with her parents several hours later, Laura guessed she'd shaken at least fifty hands.
The funeral was the following day. Laura didn't own a plain black dress, so she wore her dress that was black with a sprinkling of multi colored flowers.
She remembered going out to dinner with Stephen in it just before she'd found out she was pregnant with the twins.
Organ music played as she filed into the church and sat in the front row with Stephen's family, who were all dressed in black. As soon as everyone was seated, Max rose to give the eulogy.
"Stephen Bishop was the best friend in the world," he began. "We went all the way through school together. We went fishing, fought and made up, skinned our knees, got in trouble, made our parents proud, but through it all, we were together, side by side.
When his country needed him, he answered the call. We went through boot camp together, then flew halfway around the world to a jungle on a tiny island. He suffered a severe injury and almost died but survived to return to his family and his love.
My sister Laura was here waiting for him. They were married and soon became the parents of two beautiful children.
Stephen loved his new family so much. Laura and the twins were his pride and joy. He would have done anything in the world for them.
The loss of Stephen leaves a huge gap in our hearts, one that can never quite be filled."
When Max had finished speaking, Susan Bishop Hunter came to the front and read a selection from the poem 'To A Brave Soldier.'
"The battle is o'er, at last 'tis peace. Lay your sword at the Savior's feet."
When the service was over, everyone filed past the casket one final time before it was closed forever. Laura took one last long look at Stephen's face and committed it to memory.
Afterward, the pall bearers carried the casket to the freshly dug grave in the small cemetery behind the church. Reverend Haber said a few words, and then the casket was lowered into the ground.
Laura picked a bouquet of wildflowers and threw them onto the lid.
