Year’s end, year 1
My brother-in-law’s death, I knew, was going to change my life. I, of course, had no idea exactly how, but I had that feeling. When people come in and out of your life, you always have this hope that you’ll see them again one last time, even if it’s to say good-bye, then you can feel settled and okay without them for a while. You never know, though, if the separation will be permanent.
Some individuals in your life matter, I mean really matter. There are also large groups that don’t. Entire cities, states, countries, and continents are full to the brim with the living that I will never meet. Do I care about them dying? Maybe a little less than the average human being; however, I can’t say for sure. If I could personally do something about it, I would, probably.
Honestly, I think the only thing dumber than weddings are funerals. Let’s bring lots of people together, all repeating, “I really don’t know what to say” to the grieving. What’s worse is the idiot who thinks they know what to say, spouting off stupid stuff when they should simply say, “Sorry for your loss,” and keep the line moving.
Even when I had the chance to go to my own parents’ arrangements, I did not. I often wonder if things happened now, would I attend? Usually I laugh and tell myself there is no way. The first time I was made to go to a funeral was the last time I attended a funeral. Guilt is a strong motivator, but it always backfires in the end. I am a product of poor psychology enforced by a carrot-less stick.
There is a deep desire inside me to find out how many people feel this way too; however, most are just too scared to admit feelings like these. I can’t walk up to someone standing outside of a funeral and encourage them to skip out because it’s okay. Follow me, I’ll show you how to free yourself from the mental hang-ups associated with death. Social conformity will not claim another victim!
If all this is true and so ingrained in me, why then did I want to attend a funeral so close to Christmas? When people die around any special occasion, it really does ruin that day forever. You will always memorialize it and allow yourself to be saddened even in the weeks before. I was planning on being on vacation and forgetting work for a whole week. Now I had to decide if I could get away with showing up in my new casual work clothes.
“So, what are you thinking?” Polly asked.
“I’m a little numb, to be honest. You don’t expect people you know from work to die. Sure there’s family and friends that are always going, but work?”
She rubbed my back as we sat on the couch.
“Do you follow?”
“Sure.” She sat back and sighed. “Are you going to wear dad’s suit?”
“I really was hoping to show up like I do for work.” I looked at her to see what kind of expression that comment evoked. Nothing helpful, so I said, “That would be okay, right?”
“If that is what you want, just make sure it looks good.”
“Is there something I wear to work that doesn’t look good?” I asked, frowning.
She patted my shoulder and got up. “I need to check on the kids,” she said, sneaking out.
It was Monday night, and I had until Wednesday to decide. They got us all together today in the conference room to let us know about the arrangements. We all have Thursday and Friday off since Christmas is on a Friday. To get everything done before the holidays, Wednesday evening was the logical choice. Everything was right after work, just like the party.
Apparently, that’s when it happened, on that night. It’s pretty tragic getting hit by a bus after stepping out of a vehicle. Even managed to rip the door off and drag it along with the body, sparks flying, until it could stop. To think you take a cab home to be safe, and that’s what happens. Accidents happen, and you never know when a good idea to keep you protected will turn deadly. I wonder if I would have done something different if the night could have ended better.
I did talk to the others at our table and expressed how I was feeling. No one seemed to think anything could have stopped it. Random bad things happen, and you have to suck it up and move on, right? Maybe somewhere in my mind, I am changing, getting soft, caring about others. Then there’s a part of me that wonders why and is frustrated when I see no deeper meaning to the whole thing.
“Everything will continue on,” HR tried to tell me earlier.
“I figured it would, but things are going to change. They have to,” I said defiantly.
“Are you afraid of something?” she asked, leaning forward.
“I think a bunch of us want answers. Afraid is a strong word. Curious is more like it.”
“Did you talk to Ms. Cedar directly after her announcement?”
I really didn’t know what to say after she told the whole company. What I did was talk to Nell and Jimmy.
“Are you two doing all right?” I asked as I walked into their work area.
Nell gave me a strange look. I’m not sure, but I think she was holding back some tears. Her usual string of obscenities was replaced with a simple nod.
Jimmy, on the other hand, seemed very upset. “What’s going to happen now?”
“You heard Ms. Cedar,” Nell started. “Things are going to change.”
“We all know that. I want to know when and how. I’m the last one hired, remember? If they restructure, I might be out of here.” Jimmy tapped nervously on his desk. “Am I out of line thinking that?” he asked me.
I had no idea what the future held, so it wasn’t worth getting anyone else stirred up.
“We’re all in this together,” I said, making my way out of the area.
Going all the way up to the top of the company would give me another perspective. The normal ring of chatterboxes surrounded my favorite storyteller as I arrived, although a more solemn tone pervaded the group.
“What have you heard?” the storyteller asked, urging me to enter the circle.
“Nothing new. HR suggested I talk directly with Ms. Cedar.” I shrugged. “Maybe I’ll do that tomorrow.”
The group looked at each other and started chattering. “You should talk to her now.”
“What’s that going to do?” the storyteller asked, waving the others into silence. “Derrick, you definitely are the right person to find out more, but wait for the right moment.”
I thought about how so many people in such a short time looked to me to get answers. Not just for this occasion, mind you, but every time they thought information was incomplete or possibly being withheld. Asking the questions others wouldn’t was becoming my responsibility. Either they thought I was smart enough to fish out the truth or dumb enough to get yelled at for overstepping my bounds.
“Did any of you hear anything more than what Ms. Cedar said?” I looked around the room and saw them all sadly shaking their heads. “Did any of you approach her yourself?”
The storyteller laughed, which helped lighten the mood. “I’m not the one who goes to lunch with her and works on special projects.” He gave me a tap to the shoulder, which felt like a punch. “You know I’m right.”
“One lunch on my first day,” I tried to tell them, holding up my index finger, but that only made them continue jeering. “Fine, I’ll put my head out of the trench for all of you.” They clapped, and the storyteller gave me a salute.
“That’s all we ever wanted,” he said, sitting down. “Come back when you’ve got more to share.”
There is a feeling one gets when peers have even a small amount of respect for you. It emboldens and allows one to do things, hoping that others have your back and are fighting by your side. Power rushes through you and gives a sense of purpose and direction to your efforts. When I realized I was standing in the Accounting Department, about to knock on Ms. Cedar’s door, it left me.
Unfortunately, the door was slightly ajar, and I saw her watching me put my hand down after aborting a knock. “Did you want to come in?” she asked.
I pushed the door open and leaned in, smiling. “Is now a good time?”
She nodded and waved for me to sit.
“Should I close the door?” I asked before realizing.
“Actually, yes.”
Trapped and without that buzz I had on the way, I closed the door gently and sat down across from her.
“So, how are you holding up?”
I sighed and leaned back. “I have to tell you I did not see that coming.”
She leaned forward, and her expression grew serious. “You understand this is going to change everything.”
“That’s what everyone is saying.” I nodded.
“I want you to know this company is going to need good people like you to get through this.” Her eye twitched ever so slightly. “Can I count on you?”
“Definitely,” I said, not only meaning it but feeling it too.
“Are you going to the funeral?”
“Funny you should mention it. I actually plan on being
there.” I smiled and raised my eyebrows. “First one in a very long time.”
“Oh,” she said like my words were painfully shocking.
“I’m not into the whole dead burying the dead thing,” I said, moving my hands around nervously.
Her eyes narrowed, and her head turned slightly to the right. “What?”
“I don’t know,” I tried to recover. “It’s something I heard somewhere.” Sitting on my hands, I continued, “Anyway, I’m not into funerals most of the time.”
“It’s out of respect that people go.”
It felt like she was scanning my head and finding out how screwed up I was in my brain.
“Are you okay?”
I felt myself rocking in my chair a little.
“Derrick?”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.” I pulled myself together and looked at her again. “This part isn’t easy for me,” I said, welling up.
She quickly grabbed two tissues, giving me one and dabbing her eyes with the other. “I know what you mean.”
I shook my head slowly. “No, I don’t think you do. I didn’t even come back when my parents died.” I’m pretty sure her jaw actually dropped slightly for the smallest of seconds. “You and Mr. Manor are the closest thing to replacing them.”
My goal when I went to see Ms. Cedar was to get information, get out, and let everyone know what the company planned to do to replace the dearly departed. There I sat having an emotional meltdown in front of an owner of the company. I did not want to deal with years of repressed drama from the time I saw my first dead body to the time I was forced to attend my grandmother’s funeral.
For the next half hour, I poured out all the toxic crap that had been lining my head for years. To say that Ms. Cedar was patient and kind, listening while consoling me, would be an understatement. At no time did she rush me or judge me. How in the world did I allow myself to think for one second that my way of thinking was acceptable? Years and countless pages in my journals were filled with ideas I was releasing. My first thought was to get rid of it all and start again. In the end, I needed proof to see how much I’ve grown.
“Where did you end up?” Ms. Cedar asked nonchalantly during a lull in the conversation.
“What?” I asked, wiping my nose.
“After the party.”
“Right. We went dancing.”
She smiled and stood up. “Things are going to change for you around here. Do you think you’re ready to stay focused?”
“Yes,” I said, standing too. “I’m very excited about implementing the new computer system next year.”
“That’s good.” She moved to the door and opened it a little. “If you ever need to really talk through what you’re feeling, make sure you come and see me again.”
“You sure you want to get into my head again?” I asked, opening the door wider.
She smiled and pushed me gently out of her office. “Once you clean it up, it might be a nice place to visit on occasion.”
I looked back and waved as I moved toward my desk.
For the next couple of days, I went through my daily routine, knowing that Wednesday night would be difficult. I decided that since the funeral was at night, I would not wear a suit all day. I’m pretty sure everyone else did; however, no one said a word to me about my clothing choice. Adding to the pressure was the fact that I had to get all my work done before leaving since I was on vacation next week.
Ms. Cedar was willing to give me another ride since the arrangements were nowhere near public transportation.
“Are you all set?” she asked, passing through my hallway.
Normally, she is dressed very plainly—matronly is more like it. Tonight she had on some makeup with her hair done differently.
“Ready?” she asked when I sat staring at her.
“Almost, I just have a few jobs to drop off.” I printed out the last job I was working on, gathered up all the paperwork, and bolted up the steps. I headed all the way to the top, dropped off a job, and came back down to leave something for Jimmy.
“Hey, are you going tonight?” I asked him since he was still working.
“I’m getting a ride soon.” He stood up and stretched. “What about you?”
“I’m going with Ms. Cedar now. You taking any time off next week?”
“No. You?”
I smiled. “I’m done for the year.” I tossed the desktop job on his desk. “Happy holidays.”
He put out his hand, and I shook it firmly.
“Have a good one. Any plans?”
“I leave all that up to my sister. She’ll probably drag me around to visit a bunch of people with her kids in tow.”
“Well, try to enjoy it.”
I waved good-bye and headed back to my desk to shut down my computer and grab my belongings. I put on my coat, slung my bag over my shoulder, and headed for the parking lot next to our building. Ms. Cedar was in the car, ready to go. She leaned over and unlocked the door, pushing it open a little.
“Thanks,” I said, sitting down, closing the door, and putting my bag between my feet. Pulling the seatbelt into place, I relaxed, turning to Ms. Cedar. “All ready?”
“We’re waiting on one more,” she said, looking out the window.
The back door behind the driver opened, and Alison hopped in quickly.
“Now we’re ready to pay our respects to Mr. Manor.”