A Field of Onions – Part 1

                                              “Life is like a field of onions; one cries while peeling it.” ~ Proverb

Molly watched as the funeral director closed the lid on the coffin one last time. The organ music started, and everyone was standing. Molly barely remembers leaving the church as people began to file out the double doors headed to the cemetery.

She locked eyes with her best friend Nina who was waiting for her on the steps of the church. Falling into her arms the floodgate of tears opened. Since this nightmare began three days ago, Molly had not been able to cry. Now it seemed as though she could not stop.

Nina eased her down the front steps into the church yard.

“Do you want me to walk with you to the gravesite?” Nina asked.

Molly could only shake her head no. She could not bear to see them lower her dad’s coffin into the ground. She knew her mother and sister needed her, but she could not watch. It was so awful.

How could this be real? The thought of her strong, bigger than life daddy lying under the earth.

Having experienced the death of a brother early in life, why couldn’t death leave them the hell alone? Why again? Molly was struggling to understand the reasoning.

Their church family at Mason Baptist Church meant well, but Molly found no comfort. How could a loving God allow death? Their ‘thoughts and prayers’ best wishes left her feeling angry. There did not seem to be anyone who could explain it to her in a way that made sense.

Arriving home from the service, the kitchen counters were covered with every casserole dish imaginable. Huge platters of fried chicken, roast and sliced ham spoke volumes of how loved their family was. Every Jell-O salad, garden vegetable, dessert and deviled egg platter was there.

Katharine, Molly’s mother, stood in the middle of the kitchen shaking her head. “How in the world will we ever eat all this food?”

Ever the hostess, she immediately began encouraging the family and friends gathered to help themselves to a plate.

Molly’s aunt came by and gave her a quick hug before joining Katharine in playing hostess. Seeing how everyone started eating and visiting in tiny groups around the combination kitchen/den, Molly made her escape to her room.

Kicking off her shoes, she tugged her Sunday dress over her head. She hated dressing up. She was much more home in her shorts and tee-shirt and flip flops. Not caring how it looked, she pulled on her favorite Led Zeppelin tee. No one was paying attention anyway.

Lying on her bed, she listened to her favorite Carole King album. When “Way Over Yonder” began to play, the tears started again. Her dad, John was not an easy man to be close with, but all the same he was the center of Molly’s world.

Just as she sat up on the side of her bed, her sister, Jena threw open her bedroom door. As usual, she never knocked or waited to be invited into Molly’s sanctuary.

“What are you doing? Get out here and help entertain your cousins. They are asking where you are!”

Why did she have to be so mean and bossy? They were ten years apart in age, but they might as well be twenty.

Molly knew it would do no good to explain that she did not feel like entertaining. Who produced that bright idea? Why should the grieving entertain anyone? Shouldn’t it be the other way around? This was not a party! Knowing Jena could care less what she was feeling, she made a face and eased off the bed.

“I’m coming, but I’m NOT changing my shirt!”

“Who gives a crap? Just get your butt out here. We need to support mom as best we can.”

Jena turned on her heel walking back down the hall. Grudgingly, Molly followed behind her into the den. She noticed her two cousins, Kathy, and Lisa out on the carport through the screened door.

Joining them outside, Lisa said, “Molls, we’re really sorry about Uncle John. Are you okay? she asked, while taking Molly’s hand.

Determined not to cry in front of her cousins, she just shrugged. “Yeah, I guess.”

Kathy, being the elder of the three leaned over and hugged Molly. “Remember we are here if you need anything, okay?”

Even trying to smile felt hard, but Molly managed a half smile and replied, “Yeah, sure, thanks, Kathy.”

Kathy left the two and went back inside. Lisa, realizing the awkwardness of the moment, asked Molly if she’d like to sit in the rockers on the front porch. Nodding, the two walked around the sidewalk to the porch.

Her parents loved sitting outside at night in the big black rocking chairs. The porch overlooked their large front yard and it was a great place to seek respite. Katharine had ferns hanging on chains from the ceiling and the fronds rustled in the wind like satin dresses.

It was one of Molly’s best memories of her dad. He loved being outside while listening to music or one of his Jerry Clower albums on the cabinet stereo in the living room. He would raise the living room windows which overlooked the front porch so they could hear.

Every time the “Knock Him Out, John” story came on, John would slap his knee and laugh. Molly had heard it at least a dozen times but always laughed along with her dad.

The image of his glowing cigarette in the dark and the Mason jar of ice water would forever be painted in her memory. The best nights were when there was a full moon, and you could see across the yard to her grandmother’s house next door.

Occasionally Jena would join them but most of the time it was Molly and her parents along with their dog Major. After the heat of the day, there was something refreshing about being in the southern night air. It was one of the few times Molly was quiet.

She loved listening to her parents talk about the day or what next had to be done in the garden. Sometimes they would talk about what was going on in the community. The cadence of their voices along with the night sounds of critters was a soothing balm to her soul. She felt safe and wrapped in the childhood cocoon that said your world was safe and would stay that way forever.

After what felt like hours, everyone had finally left except Katharine’s first cousin Diane and her husband Ed. They had come in from Kentucky for the funeral and were staying with them until they left in two days’ time.

The refrigerator was bulging with all the leftovers.  Katharine had insisted her sisters carry home some of the food but there was still so much left. Diane and Ed had retired to the guest bedroom, and it felt odd for the house to be so quiet after all the chaos of the last few days.

It was the last week of school in May and Molly had missed her final seventh grade exams to be with her family. Katharine had arranged with Mr. Harvey Wilmot, the Assistant Principal for Molly to take her exams during summer school hours which started Monday. Molly had been riding to school with him that year, plus he was a distant relation. He was more than happy to help.

“Molly, honey…I know this has been a hard week, but you really need to start studying for your exams tomorrow, okay?” She was busy loading the dishwasher for its second run of the day.

“Yes, Ma’am. I know.” Molly replied plopping down on a barstool. Was mom even sad about dad dying, she wondered. Molly had noticed her mom crying at the funeral but otherwise she seemed so calm and collected.

“Mom?”

“Um hum…”

“Are you sad daddy died?”

She had her back to Molly, but she stopped washing the pot in her hand and looked up and out of the kitchen window. She was trying so hard to be strong for the girls. Thinking to herself she said a quick prayer, “Please Lord, please help me hold it together.”

Drying her hands, she moved over to Molly at the bar and hugged her tight. “Of course, I am sad. I am very sad, but your father would want us to keep our chins up and keep going. Everything is going to be okay; I promise. We will miss him every day, but he is still with us in our hearts.”

All Molly could do was nod and hug her mom back. It sure didn’t feel as though everything would be okay. In fact, it felt like a dark cloud was swirling overhead.

Molly was more perceptive than she knew.