I heard a lot of “Everything happens for a reason,” and “God has a plan,” and “All things work together for good.” The more I heard it, and the more death and pain and heartache I experienced in my life, the less and less I found myself believing that to be true. Nothing seemed to happen for a reason, unless the reason was to have our hearts trampled and done away with. And I refused to believe that that was the meaning and purpose of life.
But, everyone who spoke remembered Carrie at her best and brightest, and hearing them speak reminded me of what had drawn me to her in the first place back in high school. Pictures appeared on the screens throughout the service, showing my happy, vibrant Carrie. There was even a rather embarrassing photo of us that had been taken at the Junior Prom that made an appearance. It garnered chuckles from people throughout the sanctuary.
When the service was over, people came by to express their condolences, but truthfully I don’t think I remember hearing any of them. And I couldn’t recall the faces of anyone who stopped by.
I had told her parents that I wanted the graveside to just be us, family. I didn’t want all these people traipsing out there with us to see her buried. I didn’t even want to see it, didn’t think I could stand to watch, but I knew I sure as hell didn’t want anyone else there with us. They obliged and informed everyone before the service of my wishes. I know it must have been a pain, but I was grateful to them for doing that. I felt bad having to tell Walt and Robin they weren’t welcome, but they were as gracious as ever and told me they understood.
I sat on the grass, Indian style, as they lowered the casket into the ground. I had no tears left to cry, and it didn’t seem like the rest of the graveside attendees did either. There would be more later I was sure, but for then they were depleted.
A hand found my shoulder, and Linda sat down next to me on the grass, despite being in a beautiful, if not slightly somber, dress. I looked up and Bill was standing behind me. He wanted nothing to do with the ground, and while I couldn’t blame him, I had no desire to get up either.
“Hey, Luke,” she said, giving me an all-encompassing side hug. She was on my right and Bill was standing over my left shoulder. His right hand was on my shoulder, just above the arm of his wife.
“Bill and I just wanted to thank you,” she said, beginning to choke up. On a normal day, I would have expected to also start blubbering like a baby, but nope, I was dry.
“When Carrie was little, we prayed she would meet someone who treated her right, who loved her and took care of her. Someone we could trust to protect her. We are so thankful she found you.”
“Even though you guys probably got married a little too young,” Bill piped in from behind me. I could hear the smile in his voice, but it was a sad smile. I didn’t have to turn my head or look up to know it.
“We will continue to be part of your life as long as you want to have us in it. Carrie was our only child, and when she brought you into our lives, we gained a son.”
Bill squatted down next to me on the left, large black sunglass lenses blocking eyes that were sure to be red with grief. I knew he treasured his daughter, and while he was mostly the silent type, I was certain he was still a wreck inside.
“Look,” he said, his hands on his knees to help keep balance. “We know you guys had to sell just about everything to be able to afford to pay all the medical bills. You guys have been using Carrie’s old car, and I want you to have it. I know it’s not much, and if we could give you something more, we would. But, we just want to help in any way we can.”
Bill wasn’t much of a talker, and these might have been the most words I have heard him use in one sitting.
Carrie and I had bought a new car (one of our poorer decisions) right after we got married, and we sold it to be able to keep up with all the doctor bills. Carrie’s car, the Roller Skate, had been hers in high school and her parents had kept it in their garage until Carrie asked them if we could use it again. It was quite a downgrade, but people paying huge bills don’t have the luxury of being prideful. They don’t have the luxury of any sort of luxury, really.
“Thank you guys,” I said. “I hadn’t thought about what I would do about a car. I really appreciate it.”
Linda gave me another big side squeeze.
“Just remember, you will never be a stranger with us. You will always be welcome in our home. We both love you and are so grateful for you and all you did for Carrie.”
With that she stood up and asked Bill for her purse. She pulled out an envelope and handed it to me. My name was written across the front, in Carrie’s nearly flawless handwriting.