Edible Arrangements

 After Shane died, my parents and my best friend and I were gathered at home, preparing for a day at the funeral home or maybe one of the days right before the funeral home. Everyone was in pajamas, if I remember correctly, except for my best friend, who was put together and making sure that we were at least semi-functioning. There was a knock at the door. My best friend appeared to go answer the door and then came into the room where I was, muttering something slightly undiscernible and suggesting that I needed to go answer the door. 


At the door was a man with the widest smile I've possibly ever seen. He was wearing orange and purple and holding and obscenely large bouquet of fruit. So large that he was struggling to keep it upright. 


"HELLO!"


I stared back in disbelief. What was this strange little man doing at the door? What was this bouquet of fruit? Why was he so happy? Would I ever be that happy again? Was I ever that happy to begin with? Probably not. Could I even fake being that happy? Probably not successfully. Seriously, was this man on medication? Did he have a head injury? These are the thoughts that flew through my head as I stared at the man, unable to form proper words. 


Finally, I answered, "How can I help you?"

"Well, I have an Edible Arrangement for you! And boy, is this one special because it even has special chocolate sauce! And I've never gotten to deliver one with special chocolate sauce before! So this must be a very special delivery! Now, if you can just take this, I need to run back to the car so that I can get a little signature from you and give you one of our wonderful calendars!"

The man somehow placed the Edible Arrangement into my arms and, in the memory I've kept of the moment, skipped off to his delivery van to get a calendar and something for me to sign with a "little signature." 


I must have managed to hand off the arrangement to someone else, collect the special chocolate sauce and calendar from the man, and give him a little signature. He was smiling the entire time. Couldn't he see our misery, I thought to myself. Didn't he read the card? 


"Have a great day!!" The man trotted back to his van and drove out of our lives. 


I turned around to face my family and friends. And something magical happened. We all started laughing. Real laughter. Not forced, conversational laughter. But real, honest, doesn't-make-you-sound-attractive laughter that comes from deep down in your belly. 


That moment proved for me that life does, in fact, go on. Sometimes it starts to go on during a time when we least expect, like when you're minding your own business, attempting to be miserable and grieve in your pajamas. Life forces you to have moments of happiness and laughter, even if it then thrusts you into four miserable days of funeral homes and funerals and burials.


I don't remember who sent the Edible Arrangement, I think it was a friend of my mother's. It was excessively large and took a long time to disassemble but it gave us fresh fruit to eat. And it gave us laughter. Throughout the rest of that week, we kept seeing Edible Arrangements trucks and making jokes about special chocolate sauce and happy deliverymen. To whomever sent that, I don't think anything else my family was given during that time frame brought us more genuine happiness during a time of absolute misery, so thank you very much. 


Not so long ago, I saw that deliveryman again and took the opportunity to thank him. I don't think he remembered me, but when I told him that we still talk about how happy of a person he was and how he brought my family so much joy with our Edible Arrangement he smiled wider than I thought possible, even for him. 

Shane's Last Christmas Present to Beth

The following was written by my mom, Kitty: 

Shane’s Last Christmas Present to Beth

I have started and stopped this write so many times, but I am compelled to write about last Christmas. It was just a year ago that Shane and I went shopping for his Christmas present to Beth.  Never in a million years would I ever allow myself to imagine that would be the last Christmas present he would ever purchase.  As a mother, I built this protective wall for my children that I felt would never be shattered.

I knew that this was a special moment because Shane asked me to go shopping with him for the perfect gift for Beth.  It had been quite awhile since Shane had asked me to go shopping with him because he preferred shopping with his sister.  

Shane wanted to purchase a gift that would not wear out or be out of fashion, but something that Beth would always have to remind her of how much love they shared.

So off we went – headed out to the mall.  While driving to the mall we talked about life and music.  We talked about his new life at Fort Campbell and what it would be like to be part of the legacy of the 101^st Airborne Division.  We talked about The Black Keys, Eminem, and Beck.

By the time we had arrived at the mall, Shane had decided he was going to purchase a necklace or ring for Beth.  I never realized how many independent jewelry stores were in the mall, let alone the jewelry departments in the anchor stores.  Yet, we managed to go to every store that carried fine jewelry – just to end up back at the first store and the very first showcase that Shane peered into. 

I remember perusing the showcases with Shane – a time or two pointing out a piece of jewelry, just to have him shake his head no.  Most of the time, I would pretend to look into the showcases, but all the while keeping my eyes on Shane. I would embrace the intensity of his search, his search for the perfect gift.

We stopped and had lunch before he made his final decision.  Again, talking about music and family and his passionate commitment to being Soldier.

Finally, we returned to that very first showcase.  I remember Shane examining the ring he selected, holding it up to look at it from all angles.  It is a ring that screamed – buy me, I am the perfect gift for Beth.  It is a citrine ring with black and white enamel.  It is not modern or antique, but it has “Beth” written all over it.

But it is more than just a ring; it is the last Christmas present that Shane ever purchased.  It is one of the endearing reminders of Shane.  It is a gift from the heart, a gift between a brother and sister. A gift of love that will help us over the sad and painful days.

My husband and I have been truly blest to be able to say that Elizabeth is our daughter and that Shane is/was our son.  As parents, are always grateful for the love of each of our children.

Peace-

Beth’s momma and Shane’s mammy