Chapter 22

The plans for the funeral evolved beyond anything that Ed could have imagined. The service was held outdoors in the park under the open air. The clear blue sky had turned a darker shade of blue, the mountains in the distance were sharp, and the wind was gentle. The temperature was not hot or cold, but comfortable. Everything combined to make it a perfect day for outdoor events.

The park was filled with people dressed in their Sunday best. The casket was under a white canopy, surrounded by flowers of all kinds. Small vases were given the same exposure as the large arrangements. The aroma of the flowers floated through the air. The high school orchestra played music in the background.

The hearse stood off to the side drawn by two black horses. It was black with glass panels along the side and back to allow the mourners to see the casket. The glass was etched with delicate flower patterns. Two brass lanterns, one affixed to each side of the front, reflected the sunlight. The driver was dressed in an antique undertaker’s outfit loaned to the driver by the same museum that had loaned them the hearse.

The family sat as a group to the side. Ed, John, and Kelly wore their Druid Robes. Leroy wore a black suit with a black armband. Linda and Ling were dressed in plain black dresses. Little John wore the blue robe of an initiate. Beth wore a black dress in the same simple style of the dresses worn by her mothers. William wore a suit of the same cut as Leroy. Betsy was wearing a black jumpsuit. Dr. Hayes wore an old blue suit, and was looking small and defeated. The staff sat behind the family as a group, the men wearing their suits and the women dressed in black.

When the music died, the Presbyterian Minister walked to the podium as the music came to an end. He led the people gathered through a prayer. Looking around at the huge crowd, he said, “Elizabeth Hayes was a loving wife, mother, and member of the community. She touched the lives of many people and they were better for having known her.”

Ed listened to the minister talk about Mrs. Hayes wondering how well the man actually knew her. Much of what he was saying was the generic kind of talk that one gave anyone that had managed to live over eighty years. At least he didn’t make the mistake of calling her a grandmother, although the kids thought of her in that manner. He glanced over at Leroy observing the tears running down his cheeks. Of the whole Carter family, Leroy was taking her death the hardest. Dr. and Mrs. Hayes had played a major role in his life when he first joined the family.

Dr. Hayes sat in his chair, his eyes fixed ahead seeing nothing. If it wasn’t for his trembling hand on his cane, one could have mistaken him for a wax figure. It was hard to determine if he was hearing anything that was said. The man’s behavior concerned Ed. It was as though he had given up on life and was waiting to die.

Rather than a single eulogy, the family had decided to have three of them given by different people that had known her in different contexts. Ed had argued that Mrs. Hayes was a woman of subtle complexity. No one person could know all that there was to the woman.

Maria spoke as a neighbor, and told stories about how Mrs. Hayes had helped her neighbors in the manner that kind people usually did. There had been more than one occasion in which Mrs. Hayes had sat up the night watching over the children of families that were in the midst of a crisis. The kids of the neighborhood had always felt free to come to her house for milk and cookies while telling her their problems of being young. Maria spoke of simple acts of kindness that anyone could perform, but few would take the time to do them.

By the time that Maria had finished, there were few dry eyes in the crowd. She had reminded everyone of the debt that they owed the elderly woman. Even teenagers were in tears as they recalled the times spent visiting with her and the kindly advise she had given them. Ed had not been aware of those activities, knowing her as a family member that helped bring a longer-term perspective to life’s problems.

The Mayor spoke about how Mrs. Hayes had volunteered so much of her time to making the town a better community. He mentioned the hard work and dedication that had been required to establish this park. Pointing to the gazebo, the playground, the baseball field, the soccer field, and the picnic area, he described how she had a vision that had become real. It was the high point of her service to the community. He announced how the town council had met the previous night and voted unanimously to have a statue of her erected in a corner of the park. The statue would show her watching over the park as a kind of guardian angle.

The announcement of the statue was greeted with murmurs of acceptance at the gesture and a smattering of applause. Ed glanced at Dr. Hayes and saw that the man didn’t react at all to the news about the statue. His spirits fell, as he knew that the doctor had given up and would die within a few months.

When Leroy stood up to speak, everyone sat up to listen to what he had to say. Despite how active the individual members of the family were in the town, few people understood what life inside the family was like. After taking a deep breath at the podium, Leroy said, “Once upon a time, generations of family lived together in a single town. Today that is rare except for a few towns like ours. It’s a shame, because every generation needs to learn from the one that preceded it.”

He paused before asking, “How does one learn how to grow old gracefully, without an example to follow? Who will tell you that retirement comes much sooner than you can believe? Who will be there to remind you that you did the same things as your children when you where their age?”

Looking around at the townspeople, he said, “When you live separated from the previous generation, the answer is: no one. The key to the future lies in the past and for those of us who live separated from our parents, that key is denied us. We were fortunate the day that Dr. and Mrs. Hayes moved to our town. They brought us that key.

“From the very beginning, Mrs. Hayes gave us valuable insights. I often went with her to Phoenix when she was picking out the material for her new house. On the way we would talk about things. Much of it was about trivial stuff, such as how colors affect moods. Other things were much deeper. I remember one day when she said that personal comfort was easy, but providing comfort for a group of people was an art. Later I thought about it and realized that she had expressed a great truth.

“When I would start to get impatient, she would put a hand on mine and tell me to relax. She would remind me that the difference between some task taking five minutes and ten minutes was nothing in the span of a lifetime. Last month, when you waited in line to pay for something and the person at the register was slow, did the world stop because of the extra five minutes you spent in line? No, it didn’t.

“She taught me to remember that we have time to achieve things and to ‘stop and smell the roses.’ I remember being worried about a particularly major exam one day. She had seen me growing increasingly more nervous. She told me that all things occur in their time and season. The season for ‘getting prepared’ was over. It was now the season to ‘do.’ I should ‘do,’ and reap the crop that I had sowed over the past months, whether it was a bumper crop or a disaster. In thinking about it, I knew she was right. Last minute cramming would only destroy the hard work that I had done over the full semester.”

Leroy looked down at his notes and then back up at the people assembled before him. The elderly were smiling while the middle- aged adults were nodding. He continued, “It’s important to have grandparents. Who else will explain to a child why their parent is acting they way they are? Who will tell them the story about what happened to their parent at the child’s age, and how that affected them for life? Sure, grandparents spoil their grandchildren, but they also teach them important lessons of life.

“My parents live in Georgia. John’s parent’s are in Texas. Kelly’s parents are in New Mexico. Ling, Linda, and Ed have all lost their parents. It was Mrs. Hayes who stepped in and provided those stories for our children. Our family needed her more than most. She was a mother to the adults and a grandmother to the children.”

After a final pause, Leroy said, “We have come today to honor Elizabeth Hayes, wife, mother, and grandmother. She loved us and we loved her. We mourn her passing with our hearts and souls.”

Leroy walked back to his seat and sat down, exhausted by the toll the emotions of his talk had taken on him. As the minister led others through more prayers and a sermon taken from the Bible, Leroy cried. Ed put an arm around his husband to provide comfort and to let him know that he wasn’t in this alone.

When the sermon finished, six men from town stepped forward to carry the casket to the waiting hearse. It was a solemn procession that echoed across centuries, six men carrying a casket to a horse drawn hearse followed by the grieving family dressed in black. It only took a few moments to load the casket.

The driver jiggled the reins and the horse began to move at a slow pace. The family walked behind the hearse with the exception of Dr. Hayes. Bob drove a small passenger wagon that one of the people in town had located for the purpose of carrying the old and infirm to the graveyard that was a quarter of a mile from the park. The rest of the town followed behind them on foot.

The service at the gravesite was very short as the minister read the famous ‘Dust to dust’ passage from the Bible. The casket was lowered to the ground and it was then time for the family to drop a handful of dirt into the grave as a last act of farewell. Leading the way, John went to the graveside and said, “Fare thee well, Elizabeth Hayes.”

Kelly, Ed, and the children repeated the same statement when it was their turn at the grave. Leroy broke down and wept like a baby as he dropped a handful of dirt. Ling and Linda guided Dr. Hayes to the grave. With wooden movements, he dumped the dirt into the hole. It was hard to tell if he even knew what he was doing.

Once the graveside activities had finished, everyone headed to the high school where a feast had been prepared. The solemn mood lifted as people got closer to the gymnasium. Muted conversations became louder and the tinkle of laughter carried through the air. It reminded Ed how resilient the human spirit was.

Nudging John, Ed stopped and waited for the kids. Ling held the leash to a harness that Betsy was wearing. Betsy was tugging on it trying to move faster than her mother was walking. The little girl had learned to walk recently and had gone from walking to running almost immediately. It was with more than a little relief that she turned the leash over to Kelly.

Beth was walking with her boyfriend, John, and didn’t want to be disturbed by the adults. When Little John and William reached them, the men picked the boys off the ground and carried them on their shoulders. The boys giggled, happy that their fathers were ready to play again. It was a short ride as the men set them down when they reached the school.

In the gym, long rows of tables were arranged as a communal eating area. The halls leading to the gym were filled with tables loaded with food that had been brought over by the townsfolk. The family moved through the halls loading up their plates with food. Near the door of the gym several men were slicing meat off a goat that had been cooked overnight in the ground. Ed took several slices, as this was a special treat that he only had about six times in his life.

The family spread out over the gym to allow access to the most people. Ed, Ling, and William sat at one table. Dr. Connor joined them at the table after he had a very awkward conversation with John and Kelly. In fact, the entire day had been confusing for him. He had never seen an entire town turn out for a retired woman in the fashion that they had.

Once everyone had settled down and started to eat, William, in a very quiet tone of voice, said, “This is my first experience with death. I’m not sure what to think of it.”

Surprised by the comment, Ling asked, “What do you feel?”

“I miss her already. Throughout the service, I kept thinking that she would have enjoyed hearing what people said about her. What Daddy Leroy said about grandparents sharing stories about our parents really struck me as wise. I am unhappy that I will never have the chance to talk to her about those kinds of things.”

Nodding, Ed said, “That is perfectly natural.”

“Yes, but that is not what confuses me.”

There were times when the children absolutely amazed Ling concerning their maturity. It didn’t seem normal to her that five- year-olds should discuss death in such an adult manner. She asked, “What confuses you?”

“Grandfather will be dying soon, but I think that the funeral for him will be a very different affair. It will be much smaller. I don’t understand why that will be the case.”

The comment demonstrated William’s keen insight into the world around him. Ed said, “Your grandfather is pulling away from life and making his peace with those around him now. People won’t feel the same need to say their farewells to him when he dies because they will have already done so. Many people come to a funeral to support those that live on rather than out of individual loss. They know that the person that needs support is your grandfather. When he passes, the need to support the rest of the family is pretty small.”

“Oh,” replied William as he thought about the answer. He glanced at the doctor sitting across the table from him and asked, “What are your impressions about dad’s explanation?”

The doctor was taken by surprise at being asked the question. He had difficulty believing that the small child in front of him was discussing this matter in such an adult manner. It was a hard question to answer since he was confused by the funeral as well. He replied, “I suppose that his explanation is as good as any.”

“That tells me nothing,” replied William reassessing the doctor.

The comment struck the doctor like a slap. He wasn’t used to having people counter him in such a direct fashion. Stuttering, he replied, “I’m sorry you feel that way.”

“You aren’t used to having your authority challenged,” replied William. That was a new phenomenon to him, since the Druid College was an area where every individual’s grasp of facts was constantly challenged. He wanted to explore that more than his question concerning the funeral. Adopting the same expression of concentration that was common in the classroom, he asked, “Why?”

“I don’t think you’ll understand the reasons, boy.” The doctor was tired of having the people of this town challenge his authority. Patients that balked at paying for medical services, rich people that didn’t act rich, and children that didn’t act like children confused him.

Shocked at the answer, William asked, “On what grounds do you base your statement that I do not have the cognitive capability or capacity to understand what you say?”