Читать книгу A Charmed Life - Nancy Jr. Manther - Страница 3

Strains of cello music played while the casket was being closed for what would be forever and always. The rich, low tones touched the hearts of Annie’s children. She loved this music and while it was moving and sad, it was also beautiful. It was their mother. This hadn’t been the only type of music she had loved – there were many -- just as there were many facets to the woman she had been. The emotions that the cello stirred made it the only choice for this moment. This was a moment they would remember forever.

The sun shone through the stained glass windows at a slant and made the funeral director’s black suit a colorful mosaic. His work at the casket was reverent and private. His movements, thoughtful and deliberate. In fact, it seemed as if he was moving in slow motion. It was both touching and painful to witness. The ray of sunlight captured the scene like a spotlight. The irony of it was lost on no one. Annie always hated being the center of attention and now here she was, front and center, in a spotlight that was sent from heaven, just for her. It was finally her moment.

After the casket was closed he walked over to the front pew with something in his hands. Annie’s children knew what he held there. They had been anticipating this moment. Annie had instructed that this exchange would occur at precisely this moment in the ceremony. It had been so important to her, so special. They both thought it seemed a bit melodramatic, but they knew better than to tamper with her wishes.

Into each of their outstretched hands he placed a treasure, so precious, so wonderful. Something such as this they’d never known --- they’d never held before. He transferred it to each of them as though it were Annie’s body itself. It took their breath away, as well as that of those gathered there to say good-bye. This was because he’d just given them much more than their mother’s body. He’d just given them her life.

The charms were still sort of shiny, but had been well worn and much loved. Scratched and smudged, Annie had worn the bracelets every day for years, both of them on her right wrist, one above the other. Her children held them gently, as if to protect them from anymore loss, anymore pain. Neither of them looked to see which one they held, and no one turned to look. Everyone seemed to recognize how private and intimate this moment was; that Annie had just given her children one last gift; the charms that were her life.