Page 30 of Shelter for Shay
The preacher closed his Bible and gave a respectful nod before stepping away. One by one, people moved forward to offer words. Some left flowers. A few laid smooth stones on the edge of the casket, a tradition Margaret had adopted during her years of working with grief counseling. “Leave something behind when you say goodbye,” she used to say. “Even if it’s just the weight of your love.”
Becca came up next and said a few words about how Margaret had been like a second mother. How she’d always been a safe haven for her and all the girls. She left behind a blanket made from old T-shirts Shay’s mother had made.
Next came a retired principal and then a quiet young man whom Shay didn’t recognize—until he said, “She talked me down from ending my life when I was fifteen.”
Shay’s knees nearly buckled.
But Moose was there to hold her steady.
“Are you going to say something?” she whispered.
“I wasn’t planning on it,” he said softly. “Public speaking isn’t my thing.”
“You know what my mother would say about that.” Shay arched a brow. “Besides, I know you brought something to placeon the casket. I just don’t know what.” She gave him a little shove. A part of her felt guilty because he was the last person before it was her turn and she wanted to avoid it. Not because she didn’t want to honor her mother, but because she just wasn’t ready to let go.
Moose stepped forward. He reached deep into his pocket and pulled something out. He fiddled with it between his fingers and cleared his throat. “My name is Matthew Rhoades, but everyone calls me Moose. Margaret was my counselor when I was in high school and she’s the sole reason I was able to join the Navy.” He swiped at his cheeks. “Like so many before me have mentioned who had met her in her office, our lives weren’t necessarily easy, but she gave us hope. She gave us something to grab hold of. Something more than a wing and a prayer. Or even a dream.” He let out a long, slow breath. “I remember writing to her after being injured during a mission. At the end of the letter, I let her know about a medal I’d received. She wrote me back. One of the few times it wasn’t the standard one or two times a year. She was a little annoyed with me because I hadn’t owned the medal. That I put it in there like a side note. She told me that this thing.” He held it up and puffed out his chest. “Was not something to shove in the corner. That she’d looked it up and knew what the Navy Cross meant.” He placed it on the casket. “I will always struggle to believe I deserve credit or recognition for doing my job. However, I know that this matters. That I matter. Thank you, Margaret, for believing in this kid. Keep this medal as a reminder that he never forgot all those life lessons.” He rejoined Shay.
“That was beautiful,” she said. “My mother’s smiling down on you.”
“I actually believe that.” He leaned in and kissed her cheek. It was soft and warm and reminded her of all the good things in life.
Now that it was Shay’s turn, her legs felt like they might not hold her. But she stepped forward anyway, a single white gardenia trembling in her hand.
“As a kid, anytime I had to speak in public, I’d write notes because I didn’t like to do this. While I wasn’t a shy kid, I struggled when all eyes were focused on me. My mom used to tell me that if I could ever learn to ignore the little voice in my head that told me the eyes were judging me, I’d be fine. I guess today is that day because I didn’t write anything,” she said, voice clear but tight. “My mom raised me alone. She gave everything she had to me… and to other people who needed something to believe in. She didn’t talk much about herself. But she was the strongest person I’ve ever known. The most stubborn. The kindest. The most…” Her breath caught.
Moose stepped a fraction closer.
Shay drew in a breath and steadied herself.
“She mattered,” she finished. “To a lot of people. But to me, she was everything. And I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to live up to that.” She held up the flower. “When I was a little girl, my favorite thing to do with my mom was to garden. Neither one of us were very good at it. We’re still not. But we both love a pretty flower, especially these.” She laid the gardenia gently atop the casket. “I love you, Mom,” she whispered. “Always.”
She stepped back, and the moment felt so fragile she didn’t know where to put her hands. Then Moose’s arm brushed against hers, and without asking, without hesitation, she slid her fingers into his. He didn’t say anything. Just held her hand tight. They stood there together, staring at the casket, while the crowd shuffled off toward their cars.
When the last person had stepped away, Shay couldn’t bring herself to move. As if leaving this gravesite would mean she’d lose her mother forever. The cemetery workers stood respectfully off to the side, waiting.
“Ready?” Moose asked gently.
“No,” she said. “But I guess I have to be.” She shifted her gaze, staring off into the trees that lined the cemetery. She squinted. That man in the dark coat and dark slacks was still standing under the oak tree. He just stood there staring back at her. At least she thought he was looking in her direction, though he was too far away to tell. He’d been there during the entire funeral and it had unnerved her.
“What is it?” Moose asked.
“Some dude has been watching the funeral from a distance,” Shay said. “I just don’t understand why he didn’t join. Makes him look like a creeper.”
“Want me to go find out who he is?” Moose asked.
“No. But thank you,” she managed. “I miss her so much. I feel like a piece of me is gone.”
He turned, cupping her face. “She will always be with you.”
“I just feel so empty.” Shay slumped into Moose’s strong frame. The tears came hot and fast. She’d been keeping it together for months. Through all the doctor visits. Home nursing visits. The medical bills piling up. Everything.
“I know, sweetheart. I know.” Moose wrapped his arms around her, crushing her to his strong chest. “One breath at a time, the space will fill again. It won’t ever be the same, but it will be filled with precious memories and love. I promise you that.”
Shay believed him. Or at least she wanted to.
Moose – Lake George, New York
Later That Evening – Margaret’s House
