One Foot In Front Of The Other

The next morning, Julie arrives at my house early. I am still primping, so I  make her some coffee and introduce her to the cats. She's bantering on and on and drinking decaf. I don't know where she gets the energy without full on doses of caffeine.

Eventually I have sufficiently primped and am appropriately turned out to honor the dead. We hop into my car and meander thought the neighborhood. Lyla's Mass is at the church I share with Toni and Del and their girls.

So many people already. Julie and I start to scan the pews for two seats together.

Our eyes evidently land on the same woman at the same time. Her hair is whipped up and affixed to the top of her head in what appears to be an 8 inch industrial spool of yarn.

"She's headed to the looms later," I remark.

"Oh here we go again," Julie laughs. And then points out another woman, rail-thin, dressed for the night club, pin-up girl hair and push-up bra with black outlined lips and gold hoop earrings the size of  45 rpm records from our turntable pasts. "No idea she was going to church today," she quips.

All this and we are still not even seated.

We find a spot and continue people watching - and eventually find people we know. We kiss and shake hands with a bunch of old friends we share with Toni. And then scurry back to our seats. The vocalist/organist has taken his place on the bench in the choir loft. Show time.

We all rise and everyone begins to process in. The 6 ladies I'd met at Niles' house a few nights before, Lyla's besties since grade school who Niles calls the Taliban, are the pall bearers. It is enough to break my heart. I ask Julie for a tissue. She's left hers in the car at my house. We are each handed a bunch by a kind woman in front of us who looks like Dame Judy Dench. I thank her profusely and she pats my hand.

Behind the Taliban are the grandchildren, being escorted by Toni's twin girls. The twin furthest from me sees me and begins to smile and then tears form and she is horrified that she is already beginning to cry. I blow her a kiss.

Niles is flanked by his children. He's finally come undone. This is the final day. Tomorrow a new life must be contemplated and begun.

And then there is Toni. She and Del have her mother by her arms. And Toni has begun to sob.

Mass has not even begun and we are all a wreck.

But as Mass often does, it strengthened me - many of us - and attempted to put a hopeful spin on the unimaginable. All the while I wondered about the eulogy. I can't imagine anyone having the composure to do it. And soon enough, it is Del at the pulpit. Once again being Toni's hero.

He begins with a poem one of the girls had written for Lyla and had intended to read but could not. And then, always the thespian, he proceeds to beautifully articulate the myriad thoughts and expressions that had been shared about Lyla in the days since her death. Endearing terms, funny stories, quirky habits and sayings, the fact that she'd married divorced and remarried Niles. We are laughing, dabbing our eyes, smiling.

At the cemetery I am pleased to learn that Lyla will be only a few yards from Dad. I visit his grave after the tearful end to the service there. At this point, there is full on hysteria at the grave site. The physical departure is so palpable.  I ask Dad to keep watch over Lyla - and think with how much Dad adored Toni, he'd think Lyla was a pisser.

Del finally cracks at lunch. He ad libs a non-denominational, all-inclusive blessing and for the first time I hear his voice quiver.  The poor thing has been a rock for weeks and as he rounds the final turn, he is starting to unravel.  I go to the bar, I get us two drinks. I walk over to him and kneel beside his seat at the table, give him a hug and a kiss and a look that tells him it's okay to be a wreck in front of me.  He knows what I'm saying and nods, his chin shaking. He recovers as if by shear will and tells me that he still has my shaker that I'd delivered the martinis in. Extends an invitation to join him and Toni for another round as soon as they can begin to think about life returning to normal.

And I know in my heart that that won't be soon. The rules have all been changed and the playbook scrambled for Toni and Del and all of us who knew Lyla.  Everyone will be learning how to live a life without Lyla.  We may as well learning to walk.