Remember

“Yet if you should forget me for a while
And afterwards remember, do not grieve:
For if the darkness and corruption leave
A vestige of the thoughts that once I had,
Better by far you should forget and smile
Than that you should remember and be sad.” –
Christina Rossetti

A pastor continued to read the eulogy. He was one of those long-winded types, convinced of his self-importance in healing souls.

She shifted again on the hard pew. Her hip had bothered her for many years, a combination of too much youthful running and being old as dirt. The small church was about half full, pretty surprising given the deceased was in her seventies and most of her former friends were scattered or dead.

She hadn’t seen her friend in years. Back in high school, she and Shirley had been best friends. Neither of them was especially popular, but not in the out-crowd either. It helped they only lived a block apart. Shirley’s older brother Don also had a car and was willing to give them rides.

She remembered one time when she and her boyfriend, Jack went with Shirley and Don to the county fair. During one of the rides, she got motion sickness and threw up. Shirley helped her clean up so Jack wouldn’t notice. Shirley never mentioned it again; she was one of those friends.

She hasn’t believed Jack would really date her. He was on the football team, tall and muscular. But what she loved most about him were his beautiful eyes. Two colors - one blue and one green. She had looked it up; heterochromia, it was called.

But when she told him she was pregnant, he disappeared. Back in those days, girls didn’t keep bastard children, so her mother shipped her to Texas to have the baby. She only saw the little boy for about two weeks before the adoption agency took him away. She remembered holding him in her arms. On the small side, only 6.5 pounds with blonde hair. But his eyes were his father’s - one blue and one green. She always thought it was a gift from the angels.

She never saw nor heard from Jack again. After someone adopted her baby, she stayed in Texas with her aunt until she finished high school. Later, she moved around the country with her job: two marriages, two divorces, and no kids. There hadn’t been anyone significant for a long time.

And now, almost 60 years later. Shirley is dead in a coffin. Some ubiquitous cancer no one deserves. She hated she hadn’t seen her friend for so many years.

She looks around at the other people in the church. Shirley’s family sits on the first row. Her husband of 50+ years sits quietly with his head bowed. She was so proud of her two daughters and multiple grandchildren. They were always prominently featured on her annual Christmas cards.

A late arrival comes into the church and sits down next to her. He’s elderly and walks with a limp. His tall frame is bent, but he still has a smattering of gray hair. He removes his sunglasses and looks at her to say hello. One blue and one green eye look down at her.

“How do you know the deceased,” he whispers. She doesn’t know how to respond and merely mumbles they were friends in high school. He looks at her sharply and moves to another aisle.

The choir begins to sing, and she slips out of the church, remembering two different sets of mismatched eyes – a gift from the angels.

— opelikakat