Learning How to Bend

December 10

//I should think of better chapter titles, but naaaaah...that'd take too much effort.// 

The rest of the service passed in a blur. Random attendants squeezed my shoulder when I sat down, but the only thing I could seemingly focus on was Thaddeus's thumb on my hip, rubbing in comfortingly soft circles as more people talked about my father from behind the podium. After what simultaneously felt like forever and only just a moment, the audience stood. Susan was the first to walk to the casket. She put her hand on the wood, and I thought I heard her kiss it before moving onward. I was second. I put my hand near the top of the long box, patted it twice, and continued forward to join Thaddeus who was waiting for me near the exit of the sanctuary. While Susan and a couple other individuals who I did not know entered a limousine to drive to the cemetery, Thaddeus and I took a separate vehicle which was operated by a driver from Andino Incorporated. I did not want to take the limo, as it would mean more interaction with more people who I did not know, and I wanted nothing to do with any of that. In general, I tried to avoid situations with new people, but attending different company events with Thaddeus had helped me to combat my social anxiety. In this occasion, however, in which I was already stressed and emotionally drained as it was, riding in a car with even four people who I had never met seemed too daunting a task.

When the vehicle stopped, I said not a word to Thaddeus as I opened the door and stepped out into the sun. Unlike in New York, where it was raining and cold, here in Texas it was only brisk with the slight breeze which ruffled my blouse under my coat. I clicked a couple times, the slow-moving crowd of people coming into view. I tucked both of my hands into my coat pockets as Thaddeus and I joined the very back of the procession. I did not hold onto him as I had in the church. I shifted back into my numbness mode. When I dulled the pain, I did not have to address it or the conflicting emotions which were warring for my attention.

I felt guilty. Guilty that I had been so rude to my father during the last phone call we would ever share. Guilty that I had not made more of an effort in the past six years to maintain communication with him. Guilty that I had not visited.

I felt sad. Sad that the only family member I had ever known up to this point in my life was gone. Sad that I would never hear him laugh. Sad that at the end of his life, he had completely reversed in his manner of living, and I would never get to experience that. Sad that Susan had lost her husband.

I felt happy. Happy that I had actually spoken with him one last time and happy I had been able to tell him of Joe, Katherine, little Betha, and Thaddeus. Happy I was able to hear his apology. Happy he told me things about my mother, when he rarely ever spoke of her previously besides to blame me for her passing. More than anything, though, I was happy that he was out of pain. Out of suffering. Wherever he was, the cancer could hold him back no longer. My dad was free.

The only thing which prevented me from running directly into someone's back was Thaddeus gently pulling on my arm to stop my movement. We must have been at the gravesite, for a couple quick clicks revealed everyone to be standing together in a crowd. Thaddeus also told me there was a covered area with a few chairs where Susan was seated, and one of the chairs next to her had my name on it. I walked robotically to join Susan, Thaddeus gently settling me into the seat before he stepped behind me and said he would be close by. I did not want him to leave me. I held tightly to his hand when he put it on my shoulder, but he moved away nevertheless. I crossed my ankles under my chair and intertwined my fingers together in my lap.

None of this felt real.

I half listened to the pastor talk, but I really only woke up from my daze when someone said my name. Latching arms with Susan, we both stood and took a few steps forward. The casket must have already been lowered. I followed Susan's lead and bent at my knees to pick up a handful of dirt in my hand which I then tossed into the open grave. Together, we stepped back toward our seats and sat. I did not know how much longer the gravesite ceremony lasted. It hardly mattered. All I knew was that I was beyond ready to leave.