“If death is a part of life, and life is about living, then why does the death of someone you love make you feel, well...so dead inside?”

Jaxie’s first thoughts
the morning of Tabitha’s funeral

 Twenty Six
Goodbye, Tabitha
Jaxie

 

Pulling back the curtains of my bedroom window, I’m greeted with a flood of blinding white sunlight. Then I open the window and almost swoon from the blast of hot heavy air that rushes in. This is nothing like the movies. The sky should be overcast. There should be a steady drizzle from dark pregnant clouds threatening to break open and wash us and our sadness away.

There’s going to be a funeral today, God. Is a little depressing weather too much to ask?

I close the curtains and crawl back into bed.

Listening to the morning silence, I breathe deeply, trying to take in as much calm as I’ll need to get through the day. I haven’t shed a tear for Tabitha all week. I couldn’t cry when I accompanied my mother on a condolence visit to the Wilkins family at the house where Tabitha grew up. I couldn’t cry, not even when, on Thursday, I went with my mother to the funeral home for a viewing of the body, a generationally-required and proper ritual. When we arrived at the funeral home, I refused to go with Mom up to the open casket on display at the front of the empty chapel, preferring instead to sit in the back pew while she went forward to pay her respects. I watched as my mom walked slowly up to the casket where she stood for what seemed to me like a very long time, saying prayers and weeping softly. When she turned and came back down the center aisle of the chapel wiping her eyes with her ever-ready white lace handkerchief, I rose and met her halfway. Putting my arm around her shoulders, we walked out of the chapel together. I helped my mom into my car and we drove away, Mom crying softly, me with my eyes as dry as they had been all week.

Renee

I’m trying to catch a fast nap before I get dressed to go to the funeral, having spent the night before at Ike’s. I swore I was putting the brakes on with him, but the week since learning of Tabitha’s death has been a slow decline for me. I weathered Monday and Tuesday very well, I thought, reminiscing with Jaxie about Tabitha and better days most of Monday night, and mustering up enough nerve to visit Tabitha’s mom Tuesday after work. But by the time I got home Wednesday, I felt isolated and alone. No one called to check on me. I wasn’t included in planning Tabitha’s funeral. By then, my friends had discharged their minimal friendship duties, and they – namely, Jaxie and Anissa – could get back to acting like true friends, which meant excluding me because, as either of them will tell you, I can take care of myself.

Around midnight on Wednesday, the loneliness and isolation hit with a vengeance. A call from Ike was a welcome distraction, and I readily said yes to his request. On Thursday and Friday, I called in sick to work and agreed to go with him to Cabo San Lucas for a few days. I got back with barely enough time to get a nap before heading off to Tabitha’s funeral. There’s not one call from anyone in my voicemail.

At least Ike was there to keep me from dealing with the loss of a good friend alone. When you’re me, you take your comfort wherever you can get it. But I’m never going to do that again. This time I mean it.

Hallie

I spend the morning making sure my recently re-constituted family is taken care of, getting them breakfast and laying out Terrence’s clothes for the funeral. In a week when someone I loved so dearly left my life prematurely, I also started getting my own life back. Life is funny that way, debilitating pain and euphoric joys often show up hand-in-hand. This week, it’s been a good thing; the one definitely helped me through the other.

My family’s done a lot of healing this week, beginning to find our way back to each other for the first time since Ashley left. We talked a lot, about Ashley and about how her leaving affected all of us. For the first time since she ran away, I feel I have something to live and love for. I’ll never stop hoping and praying that Ashley will come home, but I have to go on living without her for the time being. For now, it’s me, Randall and Terrence. We have a lot of work to do. Whatever demons we have to conquer to get back to being a family, we’ll conquer together. That includes putting on our best faces to present a united front today as I face some personal demons from my past.

There is absolutely no way I’m going to miss this funeral. The few details that I’ve learned about the circumstances of Tabitha’s death have left me feeling greedy and selfish. Maybe my family’s recent ordeal was God’s way of getting my attention. As much as I hate to admit it, before Ashley left, I was preoccupied with image and possessions to the absolute exclusion of people that I loved once upon a time. People like Tabitha who, while I was living the good life and feeling entitled, was struggling every day to stay alive. Life isn’t fair. It definitely wasn’t fair to Tabitha.

“C’mon guys, get a move on,” I shout up the stairs to the men in my life. “We don’t have a lot of time to waste this morning.” 

Me, shouting. I didn’t condone shouting in my house before.

Anissa

As much as I love him, I had to send Greg to his place last night. He’s concerned about me, but he doesn’t understand what I’m feeling.

I’ve been sleepwalking for days. I’m not taking Tabitha’s death well. I don’t need Greg or anyone else to tell me that; I know that I’m not. He probably thinks I’m psychotic, talking about how angry I am at Tabitha for dying so young on the one hand, and then feeling extremely remorseful because I had no contact with her for years before her death on the other.

Greg’s trying to be patient with me, but I don’t need or want his patience. He had to go so that I could be free to grieve the loss of my friend without his scrutiny. I needed to be able to pull out every old dusty box, scrapbook or college bauble that holds any memory or connection to Tabitha. I wanted to be able to cry, scream, moan and lose myself in the memories of a special time, a time irretrievably and forever gone.

My grief is none of Greg’s business. I didn’t need him suggesting after a couple of days of my being morose that it might be healthy for me if I stopped looking for things to make myself sad. It was mean of me to inform him that he didn’t have a clue about what I was going through. I then invited him to get out if he couldn’t be more supportive. He left without hesitation, needing a sanity break as much as I needed solitude.

After Greg left, I sat on the floor with my college memories all around me. I remembered and sobbed and cried. I cursed Tabitha for dying and causing me so much pain. And when I was all cried out, I felt even worse than I did before I kicked Greg out.

Now it’s time to get ready for the funeral. I feel tired. I feel awful. I need to get dressed and make it to the funeral. Jaxie will be there. She’ll understand exactly what I’m going through.

 

 Lynette

The days since I learned of Tabitha’s death quite by accident have been strange beyond belief. If I was even marginally mentally unstable, I would have sworn that Tabitha was haunting me. I heard her voice often. It was real enough to cause me to stop and listen, and sometimes even answer, knowing that I would not get a response, hoping that I would. There’s so much that I need to know, so much that I need to be forgiven for, so much that I want a chance to do over. It’s too late now.

Eric’s been hardly any help at all, barely acknowledging the pain I’m in. He’s strangely distracted lately, more so than usual. Spending hours on the telephone in his office and out of ear shot. Making runs at all hours of the night to take care of things he won’t discuss with me. He’s even asked me to pick Ashley up at the airport, something that he takes care of himself. If I wasn’t so blown away by Tabitha’s death, I would demand an explanation for his sudden change in behavior. I asked him once what was going on. He gave me a non-answer, saying he had a lot on his mind.

I don’t know if I should go to Tabitha’s funeral. I should pay my last respects. I don’t know if I can show up in the same place with Jaxie, Anissa, Renee and Hallie to face their contempt and blame and, yes, maybe even pure out-and-out hatred for what they think I did to Tabitha.

My subconscious takes over as I select black jeans and a matching black knit top to wear to the airport to pick up Ashley. Her flight is on time. She’s standing at the curb with her bags, waiting when I arrive. I pull up to the curb, she throws her bags in the back seat, and we head out of the airport. I become lost in my thoughts.

“Are you okay?” Ashley asks. I realize that I’ve been driving in silence and ignoring her. I reach over and pat her hand.

“Oh, I’m fine I guess. A good friend from college died last week. Her funeral is today. It’s probably over now. I was thinking that I should go to the service at the cemetery. What do you think?”

I manage a half-smile Ashley’s way, not wanting to bring her down.

“I think you should go. Is it near here?”

“It’s very near here. I think you’re right, I should go. But are you sure you don’t mind? You just got back from a long trip, aren’t you in a hurry to get home and relax?”

“I’m fine. Besides, it won’t take but a minute. C’mon, let‘s go by the cemetery so you can say a proper good-bye to your friend. Don’t worry about me.”

“I’m glad you’re back. I missed you.”

“Me, too. What was your friend’s name?”

“Tabitha. Her name was Tabitha Wilkins and she was one of my best friends in college.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard you mention her before. Actually, I don’t think I’ve ever heard you mention any girlfriends before. Was Tabitha your only friend in college?”

It feels good to finally have a chance to talk with someone about my memories of those first heady days of independence.

“Oh, no. I met Tabitha when I first arrived at Buford Hall, better known on campus as the ‘good girl dorm.’ It wasn’t co-ed and had an earlier curfew than most other dorms. The RA guarded the place like the Mounted Police. At orientation, I met five other girls. Almost immediately we liked each other. We took care of each other. Now that I think about it, we were all so different yet alike, if you know what I mean. I guess at one point I was closer to Tabitha than the others.”  

My eyes are suddenly glassy. Ashley lays her hand on my shoulder.

“That’s okay, Lynnette. You don’t have to talk about it if it makes you sad.” 

Sweet child. I remove a tissue from the holder on the sun visor, dab at the corners of my eyes, and continue.

“Anyway, I was very different then, very self-centered, very selfish. I didn’t pay much attention to Tabitha except, I guess if I’m honest, to use her to help myself, without giving much thought to her needs or safety.”

“How did Tabitha die?”

“We don’t know for sure.”

I suspect that however she died, it wasn’t pleasant. I knew that her man, the one Eric and I introduced her to, was abusive. Last I heard she was still with him. My gut tells me that in some way, he’s responsible for her dying so young.

“So what happened to the other four friends?”

“Hey, is this the Inquisition?” I reply teasingly.

“Well, you said you didn’t mind talking about it.”

Now she sounds like the teenager that she really is.

“No, I really don’t mind talking about it. I need to talk about it.” 

My mind is replaying so many memories.

“The sad truth is I don’t know. I don’t know because I lost contact with them years ago. How sad is that?”

“Real sad,” Ashley replies. She sounds sad herself.

“Don’t let all my sad talk get you down.”

“No, it’s not you. I was thinking of my friends, Janet, Dana and Sylvia. I try not to think about them much because I miss them too much, you know. You talking about your friends made me remember how much fun we used to have and how much I miss them. I guess I’ve kinda done what you did.”

I’m turning my SUV unto the unpaved road leading into the cemetery. I see a funeral party at the top of the hill and instantly know that they are mourners for Tabitha. I turn the car radio off and begin driving slowly up the hill to the gathering.

Tabitha’s white casket is gleaming brightly in the sunlight. I park a sufficient distance away from the crowd to afford me a speedy getaway once the service is over. My chest is gripped by a heaviness, like something hard and cold has been placed upon it, making it hard for me to breathe. My labored breathing alarms Ashley.

“Are you okay?”

“I’ll be fine, I just need to get out of here for a minute and get some fresh air.”  

The car has barely stopped moving before the door is open and I’m outside, leaving the air conditioner and the motor running. I turn to check on Ashley, not wanting to scare her any more than I already have. I see her looking toward the crowd. Then she sinks out of sight.

I stand near the car, unable to make myself go any closer. When the mourners start to sing and I see the family members approach Tabitha’s casket one-by-one to say their absolute final good-byes, its time for me to leave. Back in the car, I sit staring straight ahead, composing myself.

“Okay, can we go now?” Ashley’s tone is urgent. When I look at her, she looks flushed.

 “What’s wrong? You look like you saw a ghost.”

“Nothing’s wrong with me. I just realized that I’m really tired and I want to go home.”

“Me too.”

I make a quick U-turn in the gravel of the cemetery road. Tabitha’s presence here is palpable. I want to get Ashley out of the car before she starts haunting me again.

We don’t talk at all on the drive from the cemetery to Ashley’s apartment. Once there, Ashley takes her bag from the back seat and places the second bag on the passenger seat. I tell her how glad I am that she’s back and I mean it more this time than I ever have. I remind her that Eric will be by to see her later to debrief her about her trip. She stops as she is about to close the car door.

“Lynette, can I ask you something?”

“Sure honey. What?”

“You know, your friends from college, what were their names?”

She leans against the door, waiting for my answer. I cast my eyes skyward, remembering.

“Now let’s see. There was Anissa, the pretty little drama queen who men drooled over but who never had a man for long. And then there was Renee, who I never got to know very well, but she was very helpful to everyone. I got the feeling that she was hiding something. Oh, and then there was Jaxie. Jaxie was the glue of our group, solid as a rock. You could go to her and you knew that she would really listen and give you good advice. I miss her a lot. And finally, there was Little Miss Perfect. This girl wanted it all and she got it all. Nothing ever went wrong for her. She was petite and pretty, her folks had money, and she was the only one who met a good man in college and married him. If I remember correctly, his name was Randall, pre-law. Ashley, what’s wrong?” 

She looks sick, leaning heavily against the car door.

“I’m okay. It’s probably something I ate. Go on, what did you say your other friend’s name was?”

“Now what was her name? Oh, yeah. Hallie. Hallie Johnson, the girl with the golden touch. I think I saw her with her family today at Tabitha’s graveside. I’m pretty sure that was Hallie and her husband walking away from Tabitha’s grave with that little boy. I heard that they also had a daughter.”

“I gotta go. Bye.”

Ashley slams the car door and is up the stairs before I can respond.

I keep forgetting that she’s a kid. I shouldn’t be baring my soul to her so much.