I loved flowers, always had. I thought they could brighten up any room and make even the most solemn souls smile; but here I was seated in a room full of flowers and yet so full of pain.

I was an observer for most of the decisions, I couldn’t seem to place any value of input on the flowers that were going to be displayed in a room with my father’s……. body? Wait, no! That was not going to happen right? I mean I think I recall several conversations we had about his desire to be cremated and ashes spread in various places that he had once enjoyed. Surely he had included this in his will; and hopefully that page was not missing as well. There was not a chance I was going to be able to handle a viewing of his body.

I was jerked from my own questioning thoughts by calls from the florist woman and my family. They were asking me to design the spread that would lay over his casket from myself and my sister. It was difficult to resist the urge to ask the nice woman if she truly did have anything resembling the color of vomited dirty martinis mixed with stomach bile. I mean, can you just imagine the look on her face? Thinking back, I should have done it just for reaction value.

Deciding on a spread of red, white and yellow flowers, we included a sash that said “We love you Daddy.” We did the allowable “Daddy” so that it would more accurately reflect Kiera as well. If she was my age she would know that term was solely reserved for when you wanted something.

My phone buzzed in my purse and I reached it just in time to get the call from my mom. She had arrived in Rochester and was going to wait for me at Mimi’s before heading to the funeral parlor. Feeling as if I wasn’t quite ready for that experience today, I asked her if she would mind being my stunt double for this event. I didn’t have much to add, and I had only been in a funeral home one other time in my life. I was going to need some time to build up to this second trip. My mother is selfless, always giving anything and everything, even if she doesn’t have it to give. For this reason I was not surprised she flew 1700 miles to be here with me, nor was I surprised when she told me she would handle the funeral home; I was however grateful.

When we finished at the flower shop, I returned to Mimi’s, promising Kim I would talk to her after the funeral home visit; we still had a lot to discuss. As I made my way up the icy front steps of the house, I could almost sense the calmness floating out into the crisp air like the output of the laundry; my mother was definitely here. She has never been one for perfume or scented oils, but I can always smell her; I cannot describe it other than to say she smells of soothing and a deeply rooted love.

I visited with Mom for a while, cutting her in on the new developments of the “war.” I couldn’t tell if her shock was a new onset or something that had remained constant since we had found out the news. Either way, acting in complete normal “Mom” fashion, she spoke to me in a calm voice and reassured me that we were going to “get everything sorted out.” I wanted to tell her that I didn’t think this was like the laundry we were sorting, but I didn’t. Somehow I knew if she spoke the words, they had to be true; Mom hated liars remember?

Mom went off to the funeral home, quite a comical combination of 25+ yrs ex-wife, recently separated widow, and mother of the deceased. I guess death really can bring people together. I am glad I didn’t go. There was some reported drama about weather or not Dad was going to be buried or cremated; and if he would be shown for an open casket. Again, making dramatics over a person who isn’t around to even speak for themselves or see the outcome; insanity. My grandmother kept trying to push her wishes on the event and was not listening to reason of what my father truly wanted. Look lady, two of his ex wives are sharing the same information 25+ years apart. I think his decision was consistent! In the end, I was more comfortable knowing his wishes of cremation would be granted, and that there would not be an open casket; I truly don;t understand why people do that.

Next stop of the day was the house;shit. I was going to walk into the home that my father took his life in. I was going to see everything how it had been left right before that moment of weakness took over him. Send in the cavalry, this battle would not be fought alone. Mom sat this one out, understandably so; you can only be so involved with your ex husband and his current wife; throw in the “girlfriend” and I can completely understand her choice to take the sidelines.

Kim’s father drove the whole lot of us to the house; Kim, her mom, Kiera and myself. We were to meet my dad’s friend Nick there as he was the executor to the will and now the one having to be present in this moment; so much red tape around such a sad moment in life. We decided Kim, Kiera and I would go in. I steadied myself on the icy driveway and leaned against the door starring at the house; “shit” I breathed again. My legs surprised me as they started to move toward the house, so the rest of me followed. Gathered at the back of the house we waited for Nick to unlock the door. Starring at his feet he didn’t make a move. Kim started to console him, thinking his desire to avert his gaze was based on his own pain, but he took a step back. He lifted his head, looked at all of us and said “I’m sorry, but only Dana and Kiera are allowed in the house.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” I sternly asked him. I was never particularly close with Nick, and this instance was proving to be no exception.

“McCraben controls 50% of the estate, and so she has filed a junction with her attorney to only allow those individuals involved in the estate to enter the property; meaning you and Kiera.” His eyes gave the hint that he was sorry for having to say this but his words were such bullshit that I couldn’t even look in his eyes.

“Are you fucking kidding me?!” I screamed. Kim started to motion to her mother to get Kiera for the moment so we could talk. “You want me to take a ten year old into the house where her father shot himself for the first time….alone? That’s bullshit and it’s not happening, she needs her mother; hell I need her mother!” The words were no longer calculated and composed as I had practice in the past few days. My voice was shrill and on the verge of breaking. I walked away to take some breaths, I didn’t know if I was going to be able to handle standing there much longer.

Kim continued on the conversation with Nick and finally came to me. “I love you,” she said. “I know this is difficult and I am sorry it has to be this way. You are her big sister, I trust you Dana, you can get her through this; you can get each other through this.” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. This was really happening? This worthless bitch of a girl who had treated me so poorly in the restaurant, who had tried to steal from my sister, was now getting away with forcing me to take more pain. Unbelievable.

I took a few moments to regain what little composure I had left and walked to Kiera. Standing at the foot of the back steps, the bitter cold wind was whipping our faces. Kim and her parents watched from a distance, and although I couldn’t bear to look at them, I knew they were there. I held on to Kiera’s hand tightly, probably more for me than for her. As I watched Nick turn the key in the lock I thought to myself; “this really is a war.”