We did that for my mom. Got her an urn because that’s what
she wanted. She wanted a big party. That’s what we did. She
always said she didn’t want anyone to be sad. That she didn’t
want a headstone or to be put in the ground. I should have
spread her ashes somewhere nice like people do, but I could
never do it. I wanted to keep her with me, and if I let her go,
then she’d just be gone.”
Jenny put her hand on Coralyn’s shoulder. Somehow, of all
the things that anyone could do, it helped. Coralyn didn’t think
there was anything that could cut through the numbness
settling around her or stop the cutting raw grief that was going
to railroad her and eviscerate her, but Jenny was standing in
the way. She was real, she was solid, and she was there.
“Everything will be taken care of. If your dad had a will,
you might need to make some calls, but there are people who
can help you. Lawyers and even grief therapists that can help
you handle things. Or if you need someone, you have my
number. I need you to know that.”
She sounded worried. Like Coralyn might become unstable
and do something to herself. That wasn’t going to happen.
Nothing beyond physical discomfort. A hard run. A cold
shower. Not eating because she wasn’t hungry. Not sleeping
because she was raw and wounded all over and was afraid of
her dreams.
“I meant,” Jenny continued. “I meant is there someone I can
call right now? To come and get you? A friend or a relative?”
“I…” One glance at her left hand and her heart stopped.
Jenny seemed to notice at the same time.
“Your husband?”
“My wife, actually.”
