"We
shouldn't have brought her to the church," Anne apologized.
"It's
okay," her mother whispered, squeezing her daughter's hand as the priest
continued.
Pat
glanced toward the white draped casket that stood in the center of the
church. How can this be, she thought again. What day is this, Thursday?
Just four days ago we sat here together listening to Father Cooper's sermon.
He talked about the harvest and about gathering graces. And now I'm here
alone and you're there...where? The tears started again.
It
had happened Monday. Pat had her usual session with Maria at the literacy
project. Later she had volunteered at the library's used book sale. She
had never had an actual career outside her home. Being a wife and mother,
though unusual these days, was exactly the life she wanted. But she used
her English degree volunteering for anything that had to do with books.
She loved reading and tried to share that love with everyone. And she
had never needed to work.
Money
was not an issue for Sam and Pat McGrew. They had met in college and married
in the spring, just before graduation. Sam had found a good job as an
accountant at a manufacturing company, spent his entire career there and
had worked his way up to chief financial officer. They'd had the average
American family, a daughter and a son, put them both through college,
and had been looking forward to early retirement in a few years.
Oh,
the plans they had made. Long car trips through the national parks, visiting
their children, one on each coast, spending summers at the cabin and winters
on the gulf or in the desert. It would be wonderful. They were happiest
when they were together. And when Sam retired, they'd be together all
the time! Just thinking about that had been a joy. But all those plans
died Monday when Sam did...when that horrible call came.
All rights reserved