Awakening A Novel of Discovery

Chapter One ;THE WESTBURY ARMS, APARTMENT 15A ;My mother is dead and I can't seem to feel the least bit sad about it. ;I didn't go to the memorial service. Aunt Clara sighed heavily when I told her I couldn't go, but she didn't protest. "Don't worry yourself," she said, plucking at the veil over her smooth white hair as she preened in the mirror. "It's not like you didn't give your mother respect while she lived." ;Now an assortment of strangers and dimly remembered faces are milling about in the apartment. I don't like having all these people in my home, but what can I do? Mother would expect me to be gracious. ;Murmuring in solicitous tones, our guests wander through the living room, graze at the groaning table in the dining room, then zoom in on the bar manned by Clara's latest boyfriend. I lean against the wall and frown, trying to remember the man's name. Arthur Somebody-or-Other, a banker from the Wall Street district. The latest in a string of dignified elderly escorts Clara keeps on hand for fund-raisers and funerals. ;I shake my head, grateful that Clara-who is bound to me by circumstance, not blood-has remained a constant in my life. ;She has taken care of all the terrifying details. From the time I pounded on her door Monday afternoon until now, she has been completely in charge. She came and examined my mother's body; she called the funeral home; she spoke with a minister to arrange the memorial service. She even managed to find the envelope containing my mother's final wishes among the crowded drawers in the antique desk. ;"Your mother left nothing to our imaginations," she said, holding up the envelope and the letter. "She is to be cremated and interred in her niche at the columbarium . . . and everything's been prepaid, of course. Reverend Jennings of St. John's is to lead the ser-vice, which should be short and sweet, with no eulogies. She wants Giorgio's to cater the wake because they always do a wonderful job, and later I'm to go through her papers and get rid of anything you don't want to keep. Everything she owned is now yours, a copy of her will is on file with her lawyer . . . so you see, dear, she thought of everything." ;In that moment, I felt the burden of responsibility shift from my shoulders to my mother's. Everything I've done for the last ten years has been focused on making her life easier; I had no idea what to do for her in death. The hospice nurse had tried to explain certain procedures, but I'd been so convinced Mother would live many more years that I didn't listen. ;Mother must have known I wouldn't want to let her go. ;Clara stopped by this morning to check on preparations for the wake. "You understand why I can't go to the funeral, don't you?" I'd asked. ;"Of course I do, darling." She took my hand and led me out of the kitchen, where the caterers were unpacking their coolers. "Mary Elizabeth would understand, too. And trust me-once she realized she was sick, she decided she wanted people to remember her as she was before the illness destroyed her mind. I've spoken to the minister, and he's agreed that the service will be simple, only a brief gesture, really." ;I nodded in relief. Mary Elizabeth Wentworth Norquest would want her burial handled with the same no-nonsense approach with which she managed her business affairs . . . and at that moment I'd been too numb to fully appreciate how much work she'd spared me. ;A weakened heart had taken my mother's life two weeks after her seventieth birthday, but dementia had begun to erode her personality years before. The detailed funeral instructions Clara found had to have been written in '94 or '95 . . . back whHunt, Angela Elwell is the author of 'Awakening A Novel of Discovery', published 2004 under ISBN 9780849944819 and ISBN 0849944813.