Healing Tea

by Sheila Horgan

  It probably took him five times as long as it would have taken me, but he was pleased with himself, so I was pleased.

  We spent the next few hours cooking. All the girls acting the fool. Daddy laughing a lot. It was heartbreaking and heartwarming all at the same time, and when I wasn’t laughing until I cried, I wanted to cry just the same.

  By the time the rest of the family showed up, we had the food cooked and ready to serve, and the table set with my mother’s favorite dishes. We had the little kids’ table set up. It is a kid-sized table that my mom has had forever. Kid-sized everything is on there, and we always tape a big white sheet of paper — several layers — on the top and give each child four crayons of different colors. The reason for the different colors? If a child decides to color on another child’s picture, we can see who did what to whom, and it also encourages negotiating and working together.

  My mother always had a good reason for everything she did. Everything was a lesson. No matter how subtle or simple. I’m not sure I recognized that until very recently.

  Dinner was good.

  Dessert was, too.

  When the kitchen was finally clean, we all settled in for a last cup of tea.

  Jordan, followed by all the short people, gave my dad the memory box.

  “Grandpa, this is from everybody. When you are missing Grandma, you can take out a story, and it will bring Grandma right here to you.”

  He said it so sincerely and innocently. I lost my damn mind.

  Jordan melted into my dad’s arms. I heard Daddy say, “Thank you, give us a kiss.” They cried together. It was great — in a family bonding kind of way. Little kids always bring a lot more comfort than an adult ever could.

  After we calmed down, molesting mom’s good napkins in the process — I didn’t think to put out Kleenex — Daddy asked the parents to get the kids settled in the other room.

  This was gonna hurt.

  I wasn’t sure what he was going to say or do, but if it couldn’t be said or done in front of the kids, it was gonna hurt.

  When we were all settled again, this time with lots of Kleenex, Daddy took a deep breath and asked us to tell him about Mom’s funeral. As we started around the table, each telling a detail or two, and then jumping from person to person, adding details, it reminded me of when we were kids. I don’t think a single O’Flynn has ever told an O’Flynn story. They must all be told by all of us.

  Seamus told of the arrangements. He explained how the funeral home pretty much knew what Mom would want. We’ve done so many funerals from there. At first, they had Mom in one of the medium-sized viewing rooms, but they had to move her to the big room by the time the actual Rosary was started. Actually, they’d had to open the room up.

  Usually, there is a sliding divider that cuts the room into two smaller rooms. There were enough people at the Rosary that they had to open it up. Often these days, people don’t even show up to a Rosary. I don’t know what other people do, but the O’Flynns show up. Always. We troop in. We try to sit as close to the back as possible. We kneel, and we say the Rosary. We wait until everyone else has made their way up for the viewing, and then we make a quick appearance in the “sympathy line” as Sinead calls it. The line of family members that are too numb to really remember what you say.

  The fact that there was a standing-room-only crowd there made Daddy smile.

  Troya explained how there were people from all over the place. Some had come from other states. There were even a couple of people we didn’t really know. They had been friends of Mom and Daddy before they were married. A couple came from Miami, and another couple came from Atlanta. Seamus had made sure they were comfortable and had appropriate accommodations.

  Liam’s voice was so broken. That’s the only way I can describe it. He said how pretty Mom looked. That Teagan and I had done a great job. My father hadn’t realized we’d done Mom’s makeup and hair. How could he think we would let someone else do it when our whole lives Mom had told us of that tradition? The look on his face when he thanked us just about killed me.

  Sinead told of all the friends who had shown up. Not Mom and Daddy’s friends, but our friends. And not because they were there to support us. They were there because they truly loved Mom and wanted to be there with the family. After the Rosary, for more than half an hour, one after the next stood to say something about Mom.

  One girl mentioned how she had turned to Mom when she was being abused at home. Mom was able to discreetly take care of the problem. After quiet negotiations, the girl was moved to live with her aunt. She had gone from suicidal to an honor student and graduated college with a Ph.D. and a calling. She’s now overseeing an organization that helps young people out of situations like the one Mom had saved her from.

  Rory asked if Daddy remembered Eric from down the street. We all thought his mom had a drinking problem, but nobody in the neighborhood really did anything about it. Well, it turns out, Mom did. He stood up and said that in the overall scheme of things, it might not sound like a big deal, but Mom used to comb his hair. He would hit our house right after we’d leave for school in the morning, and Mom would comb his hair and make sure he was “presentable.” It was their secret. He was in kindergarten and then in first grade. Until Mom stepped in, kids had made fun of him, and he was a miserable little boy. He was angry and mean. Once Mom took an interest in him and made sure he looked okay and had something on his stomach every morning, his life got better, and he was grateful. He said the three to five minutes Mom invested in him every morning for two years completely changed his life. By the time he got to second grade, he could get himself ready, but if he was hungry, he knew he could just knock on the door. Mom never made him feel like an unfortunate kid. She was always excited to see him and asked how he was. The food or whatever he needed was secondary to his visit. When he got a little bit older and was afraid to cross the big street in the fog, Mom would let the phone ring one time to let him know that we were about to leave. He would wander out and cross with us. We never knew. We just figured he happened to hit the street the same time we did. Some days, he’d walk all the way to school with us. Some days, he would turn right on Blanden and walk by himself. We figured he was meeting a friend. At the service, he said he was quite sure if Mom hadn’t stepped in, he’d be in prison. Instead, his company has an outreach program for high-risk kids.

  Another woman stood up and said that she didn’t have a great story, no huge accomplishments, but she wanted everyone to know that knowing Mom had simply made her life better.

  I told Daddy about Mom’s eulogy. That I wasn’t sure it was enough, but it was all I could do. He reassured me.

  We told Daddy about the funeral and what a great job Billy had done. He’s known Mom his whole life, so it was a very personalized service. He spoke of Mom in loving terms and knew just what she would like. Although he’d broken down a couple of times, the service was perfect. Billy had also done the Rosary the previous night, and he’d said something really meaningful and beautiful at each decade.

  We shared the special things we’d put in with Mom for the services. I’d placed her favorite teacup. The kids did drawings. When Daddy asked what happened to the items, not a one of us knew. We’d have to check on that.

  It took a while and lots of tears, especially when we were talking about the wake, but we got through it.

  Daddy took a really deep breath. It was obvious he wanted to say something. It was equally obvious that none of us were ready to hear it.

  When my father is really upset about something, his voice cracks. If his voice cracks, what little is left of my heart is going to be so pulverized, there isn’t going to be anything left.

  I could tell there would be lots of voice cracking, because he was clearing his throat before he ever started.

  “I was going to carry this with me until the grave, but I have decided to share it with you kids.”

  This isn’t going to be good.

  I took a deep breath and tr
ied to prepare. For what, I wasn’t sure.

  A.J. grabbed my hand under the table.

  “Your mother did not pass instantly as you were told. Nor did I lose consciousness at the onset. We had just a moment, she and I.”

  Nobody said a word, but the sound of Kleenex being pulled from the boxes could be heard along with the faint sound of a television in the other room. The kids were laughing.

  “When the car hit us, it hit your mother’s side of our vehicle. There was such confusion. The airbags exploded. The sound of all that metal. It took a moment to determine that we had been in a wreck.”

  I could hear Sinead sob softly. Daddy’s face was serene and pained at the same time. He looked as if he were reliving it, but with the advantage of a little time and space. He kept talking.

  “When the car came to rest, it was a miracle, but your mother had been pushed right into my arms. Where she has always belonged.” Daddy took another deep breath.

  I wanted to tell him that he could stop. He didn’t have to tell us. It was between him and Mom. At the same time, he had decided to tell us, and who was I to try to stop him?

  “I said to her, ‘We will be alright, love.’ With such a weak voice, she said to me, ‘No, no, I won’t stay. It has been a grand life. With you, and by you, every single one of my wishes has come true. I have laughed far more than I have cried, and when I cried, you were there to hold me. You were and are my greatest gift.’ And then she was gone. There was no need for me to stay awake then. I had seen the life lift right out of her. I allowed myself to go unconscious. I hoped she would take me with her. But as you can see, she did not.”

  He had a faraway look in his eye and a bit of a crooked grin on his face. “Your mother’s wish is that I stay here and live with the lot of you. I will honor that wish the rest of my days. Shall we raise a cup, to your mother?”

  Seamus stood. “I will miss Mom every day for the rest of my life. I am so very blessed.”

  We went round the table.

  I’m not sure what Valerie said, she was crying so hard it didn’t make much sense, but the gist of it was that when she married into the family, Mom made her feel as if it was the family’s good fortune, instead of the other way around. That Mom was her mother, her mother-in-law, and her friend.

  Sinead’s comments might have been the most difficult to hear. She is the youngest. The one we always tried to protect. She said she felt blessed Mom had been at her wedding and cheated because she would not meet the baby. That she would depend on all of us to help her teach the baby everything Mom would have taught him or her.

  Howard — Sinead’s husband — was eloquent. I can’t do it justice, but he said he hadn’t known Mom long, but he felt as if he knew her well. He said when they had been introduced, he was worried how she would feel about his long hair and his tattoos. She was brilliant. Her smile lit up the room. Her comment was that she loved a young man who was not afraid of commitment. He explained how she asked for the meaning of each tattoo and took great interest in how they were done, and where, and why. She made him feel as if each was an artistic representation of his reality, which is exactly the way he felt about them, too. He didn’t try to stop the flow of tears. He thanked Daddy for allowing him to be a part of the family and the night.

  That got me. At that point, I’d gone through half my Kleenex. Teagan kept taking it, too.

  Jessie cleared his throat. “I have made some really bad decisions in the last year or so. I’m not going to get into that tonight. This evening isn’t about me and my stupidity. The only reason I bring it up is to share this. Teagan and I came over to the house to talk to Mom and Dad about the mistakes I’ve made. To get some guidance. I didn’t want to come. I also didn’t want Teagan to kill me in my sleep or walk out the door, so I got in the car and drove over here absolutely sure that Mom would do that thing she does where she makes you feel like you are about an inch and a half tall and two years old and know nothing at all about life or love or anything else. All in one look. She didn’t do that. She was filled with grace and kindness and acceptance and wisdom. She made me feel as if she cared for me. Just like when I was a teen and I came to this house. I know this isn’t a night for stories, but I don’t think any of you know that when I was a teen, things weren’t going well at home. I used to come here in the middle of the night. Mom would get up and put on her blue robe and let me in the back door. We’d sit right here at this table. She’d have a cup of tea, and I’d have hot chocolate, and she would listen. To all my problems. I think she knew that I was on the verge of suicide the first night she talked to me for hours and hours. She talked me back from the edge. As much as you all love her, I don’t think you can possibly understand what a unique and wonderful woman she is. You’ve had all of her love and support from your first breath to your last. She isn’t gone from you. She is still watching and loving you and wanting the very best.” Jessie sat quietly. One tear ran down his cheek.

  My mind was scrambled from that point on. All the words seemed to comfort Daddy, and that was the most important thing.

  By the time everyone was ready to leave, I felt funny leaving Daddy there by himself. “Would you mind if someone spent the night?”

  “There is no need, girl.”

  “I know, but it has been a really emotional night, and I just thought it would be nice to have someone in the house.”

  “I must become accustomed to being alone. It is what I will be the rest of my days.”

  “You don’t know that. Maybe you will meet somebody and build a life with her.”

  “What? Start a new life with another woman? There will be none of that, I can promise you.”

  “I didn’t mean today, Daddy. But maybe someday. You are still a young man. You could still find someone. You never know. Maybe not get married and everything, but at least somebody to share some time with.”

  “I have no interest in that. Any woman would be such a step down from your mother.”

  “Maybe a step to the side.” I didn’t mean to offend my father, but I think I did. I’ve always read that if you are happy in your marriage, especially a male, and you lose your spouse, you are likely to remarry quickly. Daddy was always very happy in his marriage. I don’t want to force him into anything, but at the same time, men that remarry live longer and happier lives, and I want Daddy around for a very long time to come.

  We all left at about the same time.

  Mrs. Ladner was walking down the block. When Teagan and I stopped to chat with her for just a minute, she asked after my father. “Tonight was a bit rough. We had a little memorial thing for my mother, but all things being equal, he is doing pretty well.”

  “I worry for him. When my sister died, her husband only lasted four months.”

  “Daddy has a lot going for him. There are a lot of us to keep him busy, plus he has the grandkids, plus he knows my mother would want him to take care of himself.”

  “That all sounds lovely, Cara. But remember, all you young people have lives of your own, and everything your dear father thought was his life got buried in that box.”

  I couldn’t believe how harsh her words were, but maybe that was her intent.

  Teagan actually gasped. Not a big stage gasp, but I heard it.

  I shot her a look that said, “Don’t smack the crap out of our neighbor lady.”

  Once we extricated ourselves from Mrs. Ladner, with the excuse of having to catch up with our boyfriends, Teagan and I just stared at each other for a second.

  “My apartment or a restaurant?” It’s a sister thing, not a psychic thing. I know what Teagan is thinking, often before she does.

  “Your apartment.”

  “With or without guys?”

  “With.”

  “See you there in a few.”

  We had a cup of tea and convinced each other Daddy would be okay, but we needed to keep an eye on him and not let him be too lonely.

  The guys agreed and committed to make an effort to include hi
m in things they thought he might be interested in.

  This is going to be a whole new way of being an O’Flynn.

  I liked the old way better.

  THREE

  WHEN THE ALARM went off, I wasn’t sure I could drag myself out of bed.

  A.J. made a weird noise.

  “Are you packed?”

  “Almost. Got my shaving stuff in the bathroom. I just kinda put one of everything in my suitcase since your boss didn’t tell us where we’re going.”

  “As she pointed out, it won’t be a third world country, so it doesn’t matter. If the worst thing we have to do is go shopping, I’m good with that.”

  “Of course you are, but shopping with me and shopping with Teagan are two very different things.” He chuckled.

  “I know your sizes. I would leave you at the hotel and shop by myself.”

  “This is why I love you. Are you all packed?”

  “Pretty much. I’m gonna wear black the whole time, bring a couple of accessories, and call it done. I really don’t care what I look like.”

  “You always look good.”

  “That’s a lie, but I appreciate it. Most of my clothes are too big anyway. I lost so much weight when my mom died. Then more when I lost the baby. My damn hip bones are sticking out so much my clothes look stupid.”

  “You look great. I do think you’re a little healthier when you have a few pounds on you. We’ll work on that when we’re on our trip.”

  “Yeah, that’s gonna happen. I don’t like other people’s cooking.”

  “Maybe Adeline will have us booked into some kind of place with a kitchen. She knows you. She knows you have a thing about doing your own cooking. Didn’t you tell me you guys bonded over a sandwich you made?”

  “My famous crunchy grilled cheese.”

  “Right. Those are killer.”

  “When we get home, I’ll make you a full crunchy grilled cheese dinner extravaganza. I’m going to go take my shower and get ready. Adeline said she would have a car here in just over two hours, but if she uses the regular service, Troy is always early.”