It was shortly after my father reached his forty-sixth birthday. He had been a hard-worker all his life. He had provided well for his family. We lived in a large home in a very good neighborhood. We lived in the richest county in the state and in the richest village in that county. He had spent little time at home. All of his time had been spent making money. He owned his own brokerage firm. I didn't understand what he really did for a living. I was nineteen years old. I was the youngest in the family and as naive as a Catholic boy often is.
There was Dad, me, and my three sisters, along with Mom. I still lived at home with Mom and Dad, preparing to go to college in a year after spending time traveling in Europe. My sister, Frida, was a junior in college and twenty-one years old. She lived in a dorm at the college. Next was Geena, who was in her last year of college and twenty-two years old. She lived in an apartment. Last was Hanna, who had graduated and had been working in Dad's firm for two years. She was twenty-four years old and lived at home with me, Mom and Dad.
I was Eric, Mom was Dana, and Dad was Charles.
It happened suddenly. Everything was fine, it seemed. I was not aware of any problems in the family, but I was young and wasn't really tuned in to the family dynamics. I had my own life with its problems and worries. You remember what that was like for to still be fresh out of high school.
Then Dad had his heart attack, and within a few hours he was gone. Our family would never be the same again.
The funeral was three days later. We had a large family and they all came. It was held at a funeral home nearby and then the entire family returned to our large home to do as families always do after these events. We ate from the food provided by all the family members, so that Mom wouldn't have to do anything. We visited with members and spouses and children that we hadn't seen in years, in some cases. Finally, after several hours, almost everyone had cleaned up the food, cleaned the house, and left for their own homes.
I was left with my mother and my three sisters. We had a five bedroom house, so everyone at last went to their own rooms and peace descended upon the house. It was eerie to know Dad wasn't there anymore. It was also strange how little I had seen my mother and sisters mourn. Personally, I had never been close to Dad.
My two sisters in college had taken off for a week from college. It was no problem. They both attended the same exclusive, private school, and my father had been a large contributor to the alumni fund. The college was a tradition in the family. Everyone in the family had attended this school, except, of course, me, and I was heading there next year.
About two in the morning my mom came into my room and awakened me.
"Eric, do you mind if I sleep with you tonight? I feel so strange. Is it okay, sweetie?"
"Of course, Mom, please, do what you want. It's alright, really."
My mother was a beautiful woman of forty-five. She had kept her hair long, and wavy. It was brown and soft as silk. She was wearing a long nightgown, but it was almost translucent, and I could see what a nice figure she had. I had always thought she was lovely, and tonight she was extremely fine looking. Maybe sorrow brings out beauty I thought.
