earnest sat comfortably and quietly in his worn and cracked leather chair in the corner of the living room. people milled about, talking in hushed tones, occasionally looking in his direction to see if he was still breathing. he hated this--all the people crowding his space, his emotions, pushing their well wishes and sympathies upon him like an unwanted blanket on a hot summer night. he wanted to disappear--or find a way to make them all disappear so he could be alone and process his thoughts and memories of his dearly beloved, violet. he still couldn’t believe she was gone. he knew it was selfish but it was supposed to be him, he was to die first; he was the one with the heart condition; he was the one that robbed his poor violet of energy by always taking care of him--driving him to and from doctor appointments, to and from work when he was too weak or picking him up early. her chores around the farm and property doubled when his condition worsened. never a word of disagreement or complaint escaped her lips; she did all that was required and more; more than he could ever repay, but he would have liked to have the opportunity to at least try. it racked his soul knowing he never would. he knew if she was sitting beside him she’d lightly smack him for thinking such nonsense. she’d tell him she didn’t mind and would do it all over again and not change a thing because that was violet--selfless, always serving and tending to those around her. it was a remarkable gift.
his heart hurt. not from his diagnosed ailment but from love and the extreme loss of not having her beside him in the mornings and during the days and their walks around the hills. oh goodness, he thought, who was he going to walk with now? who was going to nod at his hair-brained obnoxious ideas for new projects around the farm? the tears started to fall, finally, and he carefully unfolded a thin white handkerchief from his suit jacket pocket and absorbed the stream.
jack noticed the motion and crossed the room to his father. he put his hand on the old, withering man’s bony shoulder and stood for a moment, not saying a word. only a few moments passed before earnest rested his hand on top of jack’s--a father’s unspoken sign of appreciation to his eldest son. they paused for a few minutes and with a couple taps of earnest’s hand to jack’s, jack stepped away.
at jack’s departure, delta made his way to his master’s side and rested his big head in earnest’s lap. earnest gently rubbed his nose and behind his ears. they shared a gaze and both knew and understood the pains the other was suffering. delta had been violet’s for many years. it had been his responsibility to watch over and protect violet while earnest was out at work during the day. it was delta who was responsible for keeping her company so she’d have someone to walk with and talk to since the kids were all out of the house. delta slept on her side of the bed and always rushed to her first when they came home from being away. to earnest, delta was a good and well-behaved dog; to violet, delta was a companion, and delta shared the same affection for violet. for a minute, earnest felt the weight and pain of delta’s loss as much as he felt his own. it was an odd and unexpected share of emotion between man and animal, one he never thought he’d observe and he was surprised at its clarity in the moment.
“well, delta, what are we to do now?” he inquired. earnest rubbed delta’s snout, gave him a good scratch around the ears, and got up from his old chair.
his bones ached and his emotionally-sodden heart made it difficult to move faster than just a scuffle. the people--friends, neighbours, family and relatives--cleared a path for him and silence came over the room. why can’t everyone just leave? earnest screamed in his head. the house was too small for this kind of activity and he really wanted to be alone. he wanted to sleep.
earnest headed for the door, looked behind him, and motioned for delta to follow along. he’d head down to the barn and check on the animals--he doubted they’d been looked after all day. emiline, the third oldest and his only daughter, rushed over to him. “dad,” she spoke softly, grabbing his hand, “i’ve been down to the barn already today. the eggs have been collected and all the animals fed. you don’t have to do it. why don’t you come back in and sit down.” earnest stood a little taller with the help of his cane, smiled, and thanked his gorgeous daughter--she looked just like her mother. “i think i’ll go outside for some fresh air, dear.” she smiled in acceptance. in a whisper, he continued “emiline, try and get these people out of my house. i’m tired.” she nodded and kissed him on the cheek. “ok, daddy.”
it was quiet outside. the air was fresh and there was a light breeze. finally he could hear his own thoughts, though they be few, and very unspectacular. his walk was slower and required more effort; he relied on the steadiness of the cane and delta’s even pace beside him. eventually he made his way to the barn. he stood by the fence and watched the goats and burrow fall over each other as they hurried to him for attention. as he stood there petting them and crying a little, it dawned on him this was one of the places on the farm violet found the most solace. she’d spend long periods of time fence-side talking to the animals, petting and scratching their coats, feeding them apples and scraps like potato peels and squash tips.
the sound of tires on gravel caught his attention and he turned back toward the house. people were leaving, saying their goodbyes to the children and expressing continued sympathy. a few waved at him as they drove down the driveway and he lifted his cane in acknowledgement. he was grateful for their kindness but he was even more grateful they were finally leaving. he wanted his house back. he wanted time with his children. he wanted to smell violet in the house. he couldn’t do any of that with so many people around and casseroles and salads and cold meats piled sky-high in the kitchen.
before returning to the house, he continued his walk along the fence line at the base of the hill. even though he was weak and exhausted, the light exercise felt good and actually provided a dose of refreshment. as he was coming around he stopped and just stared at the house. it was a grand old place--large and white with lots of windows, a porch that wrapped three quarters around, big trees surrounding, flower beds, and a bright red door--violet’s signature. he smiled at the thought and headed home, the orange sunset blazing in front of him.
walking in the door, he heard the quiet music of ray charles and the chatter of his children in the kitchen. the house had resumed its pre-party arrangement--furniture put back in its place, rugs straightened, dishes done, food put away, and fresh water for delta. he forgot how much he loved having the children and grandchildren around. the grandchildren were already in bed and his children were sitting around the kitchen table talking. when they noticed him they quieted and turned off the music. emiline rushed to his side and embraced him in a tight hug. a few tears spilled onto his shoulder. he held her for a moment and smoothed her hair. when she pulled away, he held her face in his hands and kissed her forehead. after emiline, the boys approached their father and the affection was repeated with each son, ending with jack.
emiline pulled a chair out at the table for him to sit and poured him a glass of milk. she added two spoonfuls of chocolate powder and stirred gently. everyone sat in silence, waiting for their father to say something. earnest took a few sips before speaking.
“i want you to know how proud your mother was of each of you and how much she loved you. there were few things she loved more than phone calls and visits from her children; she relished every moment.” emiline’s tears continued to fall and she reached for her father’s hand. “i also want you to know your mother was everything to me. she made my life complete.” he paused to catch his breath and soak up a few tears with his handkerchief. “there were things your mother did for others that few people knew of. she was the leading example of service, always putting others before herself, and taking little time, when it was available, for herself. she was always serving, always writing a note to someone, always caring, always on the phone planning visits and meals. the community will feel her loss in that capacity heavily.” he paused for a sip of milk. “i’m so grateful each of you could be here.”
the table was quiet. no one spoke. everything had been said and there weren’t any tears left. the only thing to do was retire to bed and end the day.
earnest was dreading this--waking up and not having violet by his side. there were only a few times since being married to violet that he was left to sleep without her and it was never restful. a bed as large as theirs was intended to be shared and the only thing he could think to do was invite delta up on the bed, just to fill the space. he knew that violet would get a chuckle out of this as he was the disciplinarian when it came to pets on furniture but he was too tired to care so much. he changed out of his ill-fitting suit into his pajamas, turned back the covers, patted the pillow, and called to delta. delta entered the room and looked at earnest somewhat cautiously. “come on, delta, on the bed,” earnest encouraged. delta hesitated. “delta, come on. on the bed.” delta moved forward slowly and stopped at violet’s side, resting his head by her pillow. earnest smiled sadly and patted the bed, pleading. up delta jumped and quickly curled up. earnest pet him and turned out the light.
“goodnight my love,” he whispered, hoping violet would hear.
