Simon blinked vacantly, and Jack did his best to support his wife even though he was as broken as she was, “The color of her eyes. She loved to wear it.” his voice cracked at the end. Crying now, the memories of his baby girl caught up to him.
The director looked at them for a moment before he nodded and quickly pulled out the catalogue, “We have quite a few caskets that are white. They are popular for women and children to capture the purity of one’s life.” He answered.
Miriam nodded repeatedly while her lips were curved downwards in a pronounced frown, “Y-yes. Yes, that would be perfect. Just perfect for our daughter.” She said in response.
The sobbing, talking, and questions all left a bitter taste in Simon’s mouth. It was one thing to live with the fact that she was gone, but to talk about his precious wife post death grated on his nerves, “Is there anything else?” he asked.
The director glanced between Simon and the others only for him to nod, “Yes, have we decided on flowers?” he questioned.
Margaret cleared her throat as she blew out, “Do you have anything with morning glories or lilacs? She loved purple.” She asked.
The director clicked his tongue against his teeth while he turned towards his computer and browsed the categories, “We do, but they are pricier you understand.”
Miriam quickly interjected, “Nothing is too much for our baby.”
The director nodded before turning the screen with the choices they had, “While you’re browsing, have you decided on what she’d like to wear?” he asked.
Margaret chewed on her bottom lip as she thought about it, “I don’t think she’d be able to fit her wedding dress, right? We shouldn’t have them cut it on her. What do you think, Simon?” she asked while placing a hand on his shoulder.
Simon didn’t respond right away and, for a moment, it didn’t seem as though he was listening. About five seconds later he flicked his eyes at his mother and gradually caught up to speed, “Uhhh…” He searched for an answer and gave an odd nod despite his true answer, “…no, no, we shouldn’t ruin it. She’d murder us.” He sighed out at a loss.
Margaret gave her son a strong smile before she shook her head to the director, “We will have something of hers picked out before the service.”
“That’s fine then. Let’s go ahead and choose her casket, her flowers, a plot of land and we can discuss the costs. Ready?” he questioned.
Simon zoned out once more while they went through the motions of every detail. He allowed them to choose and organize the entire day because he didn’t have an input. It was decided for him when life took her away. It didn’t matter what flowers or casket, decorations, and music selections they chose. She wasn’t going to be there. She couldn’t be. Simon still had the feeling that he’d go home, and she’d be there to light up the room with her smile and show him the next strange craft she wanted to make. He was losing half of himself and his mind couldn’t process a life without her.
Simon didn’t realize that all eyes were on him about an hour later. Margaret leaned over and placed her hand once again on his shoulder and shook him slightly, “Son? Son…did you hear what he said?”
The director inhaled a patient breath and kept his fingertips gently pressed together, “I said the total cost for Mrs. Gabot’s funeral will be twelve thousand dollars.” He repeated. They all looked to him and waited for his reaction, anything at all to show that he was still conscious of the decisions being made.
Simon gave his mother a blank expression before he glanced at the funeral director. His features didn’t change in the slightest. He simply nodded and politely continued as though it was natural, “Okay. Sounds fine.” He responded. Internally, Simon was shocked. To him, a funeral for his wife would cost more. She was worth more. To him, she was priceless.
Silence filled the room and everyone, other than Margaret and the director, took in Simon’s reaction. Miriam held a crumpled tissue to her nose and mouth, Jack tapped his fingers nervously on his seat, and Simon Sr. stared at his son. The room felt stuffy and overcrowded which caught the director’s attention to move onward, “How will we process payment? Will you pay for it Mr. Gabot? Family?” he asked.
Simon didn’t hesitate of think of the consequence. He’d do whatever he’d need until this was over and begin the process of grieving, “I’ll pay.” He answered.
Jack quickly interjected, “Are you sure about this son? You don’t have to spend so much, at least let us do half. She was our baby too”
Jack made a good point. Looking to his father-in-law, Simon saw sympathy and pain. He knew he couldn’t take on everything about Emily himself, “Thank you.” He said with a nod of appreciation.
Simon reached into his pocket, retrieved his credit card, and placed it on the table. Simon Sr. watched his son and couldn’t begin to understand how he was feeling or what he thought. All he knew was that Simon was as far from alright as he’d ever been, “We’re all here for you. We can all help.” He stated.
Without another word, Margaret reached into her purse, pulled out her wallet, and fished for her debit card. Miriam pat on Jack’s chest as though to tell him he needed to do the same. Margaret held her card over to the director and cleared her throat, “Separate it three ways please.” She said in a hoarse tone.
Collecting their cards, the director nodded before he stood and crossed the room, “I will give you all a few moments to yourself. Excuse
