Funerals

The death of a loved one always led to us digging two graves- one for them and one for for us. The grief of being left behind was worse than the grief of the one leaving.

I had had enough of black. I couldn't wear any more black. My sanity was hanging by a thread. Loss upon loss kept hitting me in the chest, broke my ribs and drove the stake right through my heart. How much more of this could I take? How much more could I lose before I quit?

A woman's cry broke through the haze of pain. Tom's wife Martha wept over his grave. My driver had died trying to protect my son from the accident. They had found him wrapped around his tiny body, shielding him from the pain. He had given up his life acting as Josh's bodyguard.

I could never repay a sacrifice like that. For a billionaire, I felt painfully poor today. I couldn't buy my son's ability to walk, I couldn't bargain for Tom's life or my company. Five billion dollars couldn't buy me time Or life or love. Jamal was right.

I rubbed my eyes underneath my black shades. But, I couldn't afford to break down not when my life was in a constant upheaval.

So, I swallowed my grief and pulled Martha away slowly. She sobbed on my black dress, her fingers digging into my arms.

"I am so sorry, Beth.bI am so sorry.", I kept whispering to her. What else was there to say but mindless apologies?

" Don't...", she whispered. "Don't you dare say sorry, missy. Family does not say sorry. He loved your son like his own and he lived working for you. You saved our business, gave Tom a job. You have been our rock. Tom died doing what he loved. He wouldn't want it any other way."

"I am still sorry.", I replied hollowly. " You don't know how sorry I am."

The world started to numb again but Beth's hand was tight on mine. Warm and life-giving.

The kindly priest began his speech.

"We are gathered here to say farewell to Tom and to commit him into the hands of God."

He cleared his throat. Was there a merciful God above? I wondered. Was he listening to this? Or had he turned his face away?

"In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit....", the priest cleared his throat.

"....we bid goodbye to Tom Russell. All his life he was deeply loved and in death shall he received kindly in the Lord's kingdom....", the kind Father said in a kind tone.

I bit on my tongue to keep from weeping.

The priest went on to say more about him. It was a good service. A fully Catholic one worthy of the man.

The priest made the sign of the cross and let three hand-fulls of earth fall onto the coffin, saying: " You gave him life. receive him in your peace and give him, through Jesus Christ, a joyful resurrection"

"Our Father in heaven, we thank you that, through Jesus Christ, you have given us the gift of eternal life. Keep us firm in the faith, that nothing can separate us from your love. When we loose someone who is dear to us, help us to receive your comfort and to share it with one another. We thank you for what you have given us through Tom Russell. We now entrust ourselves to you, just as we are, with our sense of loss and of guilt, When the time has come, let us depart in peace, and see you face to face, for you are the God of our salvation. Amen"

The entire congregation said Amen. I did too. Even though I was a lost believer, refusing to bow on God's altar anymore, I prayed for the peace of Tom's soul. It was the least I could do for what he had done for me.

After we laid him to rest, I kissed the ground beside him.

"Muchas gracias, Tom. Gracias por cuidar de mi hijo.", I whispered in a choked voice.

The entire congregation had known Tom. They offered their condolences and then we drank a shot of vodka, in Tom's honour. I drank another and another and another. Unfortunately the vodka I drank, had more alcohol than I had imagined. I could barely stand by the time I had drowned my sorrows in the bottom of the bottle.

The neighbors helped me into my Mercedes and my other driver Jay, held my hair as I vomitted all over the upholstery. I didn't know what he did but he managed to get me to Bellvue Hospital.

I stumbled into the ICU where Josh lay unconscious, silent and peaceful. My back hit the door and I dragged down slowly onto the floor, burdened by the weight of grief.

I sobbed. I didn't know when or why or for how long. But, I sobbed. I cried into my open palms. My face muscles hurt from crying non-stop. I sobbed because I had never felt so powerless. I sobbed because I knew nothing about the future.

Then I stumbled into the chair beside Josh. I held his tiny hand, his tiny fingers in mine.

"Come back, Joshie. Come back to mama. I......I promise...... I will try. I will try to be better for you. Wake up, baby. We have to go to Disneyland.", I grieved kissing his head.

Then I lay my face on his forehead and cried.

" Come back, to mama.", I begged him but he lay silently asleep. Motionless. The only indication that he was alive was the beeping on the heart monitor. I prayed. I cried. I begged some more.

I hoped he was listening. I believed he was there. I sung him lullabies in Spanish, the same lullabies, my mother had sung to me in the dark favelas.

"Arrurú y buenas noches,

Adornada con rosas rosas,

Cubierta de lirios

Está la cabeza de mi cariño.

Acuéstate ya y reposa,

Bendito sea tu sueño.

Acuéstate ya y reposa,

Bendito sea tu sueño.", I sang with the sweetest lilt I could muster.

(Lullaby and good night,

With pink roses bedight,

With lilies o'er spread

Is my baby's sweet head.

Lay thee down now and rest,

May thy slumber be blessed.

Lay thee down now and rest,

May thy slumber be blessed)

I caressed his darling face, his lifeless eyes, closed in gentle rest and reminded myself that I was lucky. Lucky that he had survived, that he was here. I remembered to be thankful.

But, I still begged for him to wake up.

"Te quiero, manzanito. Te quiero.", I whispered.

" Mama will sacrifice anything for you to wake up, niño. Everything. Just, hang in there and fight for mama. Don't....don't give up."

Ethan came in sometime later. Perhaps, someone had alerted him of my arrival. He took me into his arms and kissed my forehead. Then he kissed my tear-stained face with reverence.

"It will be okay, Sana. This is not the end our story, merely a page in it. A torn, broken page. It will turn over. Don't be afraid."

I lay my head on his heart and took comfort in its steady beat.

"Why can't this be a romance novel, huh? Why can't it be a 'they lived happily ever after'?", I asked him as we sat on the couch on the other side of the room.

" This is not a romance novel, pufferfish. This is a novel of life and in such a novel there is pain. Pain in love, pain in birth, pain in death, pain in relationships. But, there are good memories too. So much love. Then there is you and Josh, my two greatest blessings. I don't want happiness when I have your love?", he whispered.

"Me too, oak tree. I never wanted happiness. Just love."

I hugged him tightly, glad that he was here. Loneliness was a tiring cross to bear on my back. Now that he was here, he had become my gravity. My world didn't revolve around him but he kept it on its axis.

"Georgiana came by. She was sitting here with Josh. Don't worry. He will never be lonely.", he reassured me.

" I start my new job tomorrow. I don't know where it is. Jamal won't tell me. But, Martha, Tom's wife wanted to look after him in my absence.", I informed him.

"That's good news, pufferfish. Good news for you.", he said gently stroking my hair.

I sniffled.

"Am I making a mistake again? Leaving him?", I asked him honestly.

"The funny thing about making mistakes is that we don't know until after we have made them."

"Wish I could turn back time.", I said.

" You just end up making different mistakes.", my wise philosopher replied.

"How do you deal with it? All the death at hospital?"

"I tell myself, I did the best I could. I don't believe in a higher power, Sana. I don't believe that a God is looking out for us. I try my best on the table. I don't look back with regrets. But, you should know, I carry a graveyard in my heart. For all the children I could not save."

"Me too. My graveyard is becoming larger. Every single day."

"The bigger the graveyard, the more you should give back to life. That's why, I have a thousand plants in my balcony and terrace. I like to watch life grow from my fingers. "

I took his face in my hands and kissed him. He breathed out and that became my oxygen. It was chaste for a second before it went out of hand. In a moment, I was pushing him against the wall and right on top of him. I kissed him like I was about to die. I kissed him like I needed air. I kissed him like I was drinking the elixir of love from his lips. I stole his heart and I gave him mine. One more time and God damn he kissed me back. He made love to me with that kiss. It was the kiss poets wrote sonnets about. It was wild and honest and raw. It was a kiss where two broken, hurting people bound themselves together in one cord to drown in their sorrows together and not alone.

"Pufferfish.....", he panted. "This is wildly inappropriate."

"Fuck appropriate. I want to fuck you.", I said half crying, half-laughing.

He laughed too. It was hard but he laughed.

" We'll get through this.", he promised pulling me into a bear hug.

"I hope so, Ethan. I hope so.",I agreed.

He took me home and put ice packs under my eyes. He kissed my face ,my lips, my imperfections. He kissed my throat, the valley between my breasts, the pain in my heart. He kissed my ribs, my soul, the roundness of stomach, my plump thighs, the arches of my feet. He kissed every hurt, every invisible scar, the very sadness lingering on my skin. He kissed it all away.

And by the time, he had finished his exploration of me, I was dizzy with wanting him. His surgeon's hands caressed with gentle, gentle precision, the planes of my face. It was an inferno, an exquisite agony to lie there and wait. For, I couldn't touch him yet. He was the gift I wasn't allowed to put my hands on.

He took my fingers and placed it on the scar on his inner thigh. The mottled, ugly, raised scar was a physical reminder of how much we still had to overcome. So, I closed my eyes willingly. I took the curse of darkness, I drank the poison of vulnerability.

"I am sorry.", he whispered softly, " I am sorry it has to be this way."

"You are my greatest gift. No one denies a gift of God. I will have you any way I can."

He kissed me again and again and again and again. He kissed me till I was nothing but a million butterflies taking flight in glorious spring.

"You gave me a gift in the dark and yet it is worth more to me than any light.", I told him. He wasn't the only one who could be poetic.

He started at me with hazel, love eyes. His pupils dilated. His heart was a staccato underneath my palms.

"Ready?"

"For you. Always.", I said.

He entered me without foreplay. What need was there of foreplay, when I was soaking from his words. It seemed verbal foreplay was my thing.

We were beyond play and tease.

He moved and I moved in harmony, his soft grunts, the sweetest music in my ears. Ethan wasn't one for shouts or groans. He was a man of quiet displays of love.

Though, I could not see him this time either, I felt him. I touched him, I held him, I adored him, like he adored me.

He wasn't perfect. He was meant for me.

Our fingers twined and gripped and the struggled, yet held each other. The world was dark underneath my lashes and yet I could picture him, his face lost to passion, yet his eyes watching me with quiet intensity, watching my reactions for pain for eagerness. I could visualize him holding himself back and letting me climax, putting me before him. And it was the imagination of that love, that terrible and wonderful love shining on his face, made me climax harder than I had in life. My entire body convulsed in a sinuous arch as I clenched around him. He groaned but kept making love to me through the climax. It went on for an eternity before he too emptied himself in me, panting like he had run a marathon. Or a sex-a-thon. I opened my eyes.

He collapsed on me but then moved immediately to the side so as not to crush me. He hid his face in my neck. His cheeks were burning. Then he grinned, a heartstopping, panty-melting grin.

"That was.....", he appeared speechless.

"You believe God is a woman.", I teased waggling my eyebrows.

He punched my elbow and then snuggled deeper into my body.

He was a bigger snuggler than me. My own personal blond, grumpy teddy bear. He spooned my entire body like a pillow.

"We have to get cleaned up.", I said swatting his arm.

" Can't hear you!", he mumbled dragging me into his embrace.

"Ethan! I am not waking up tomorrow in this sticky mess.", I growled.

"Relax, they are bodily fluids.", he joked.

I threw An Anthology of Sufi Poetry at his head.

"Jesus Christ! You are a violent woman. But, you have excellent aim."

Leave it to him, to insult and complement me at the same time.

I dragged him to the shower and he persuaded to another round of steamy shower sex which topped my "top ten places to fornificate" list. Intense wall sex however did not favour my thigh muscles and they were screaming abuses at me by the time we had returned to the room.

My darling doctor massaged my legs, then embraced me in a bear hug whispering in my ear,

"Doubt thou the stars are fire,

Doubt that the sun doth move,

Doubt truth to be a liar,

Never doubt I love........