by Lindsey Butters

Created on: June 30, 2008

As the last guest slowly sidestepped to the front door, Christine realized her spoken grief was finally falling on deaf ears. She didn't want the last person donned in the ceremonial black attire to leave her house because she knew it would be the first moment of the rest of her life; it would be a turning moment where she would change from the role of grieving widow to single parent. But it happened as the door was closed almost too slowly by her best friend of over twenty years Christine realized her house was no longer a flutter with the sounds of friends and relatives offering a tea sandwich, a few dollars, or a soft shoulder to cry on. Christine was alone, well, hardly. Her three daughters sit silently in the living room; one with puffy eyes and questions left unanswered; one with a blank look on her face without the slightest idea how to behave; and one playing with blocks on the floor.

How could this have happened? When things had changed in an instant for Christine in the past it was usually a time for celebration. When she found out she was having her first baby, when she was proposed marriage from the man of her dreams, or when they finally found out they were getting their beautiful home these were moments of joy. But she would give all the joy back to whoever gave it to her just to relieve herself of this momentary unadulterated torture. As she walked into the adjoining room where her daughters sat she stopped to look at her family in its current form. and now there are four.
"Okay guys" Christine tried to fake a tone that would suggest a sense of happiness, "Do you want to help with the dishes?"
"No way, I'm too tired."
"I guess it's not very important. They can wait until later. Is anyone hungry?"
"Mom, we just had enough food to last us the rest of our lives."
Food must be the international remedy for grief, Christine thought to herself. When someone dies, there are sure to be enough casseroles in the freezer until the pain goes away. But what if the casseroles run out and she still hurts every time she thinks of the call in the middle of the night? Up until this moment, Christine hadn't had time to do anything but put the funeral together. From the moment the police had called her she had been in a frenzy trying to alert all of their friends and family, rushing to the hospital, and receiving all the fruit baskets that have done little more than attract a whole slew of fruit flies.
Fruit flies. Christine remembers an argument she and her husband

• 1
• 2
• 3
• ...
• 7
• Next Page >>