An Abundance of Orchids

I watched my daddy put the finishing touches on the body - adjusting a strand of hair, delicately wrapping rosary beads around the hands, tucking in the corners of her dress into the satin lining of the casket and straightening her pearl necklace so it lay just so. He stepped back for a final, critical look then nodded to the apprentices - four young men carefully, silently wheeled the casket into the small chapel and transferred it from the gurney onto the coffin stand. She lay among the flowers she had loved and cared for and and slept.

I had been taught to be respectful but not afraid of the dead. Dying, my daddy told me, is a natural part of living. We all move on.

Mrs. Sterling had been a schoolteacher, a mother, wife, sister. She had died peacefully in her sleep at eighty-seven, a widow for the last twenty years of her life. The service was well attended and all her family carried orchids, her favorite flower. The minister spoke reverently of her years of teaching, her dedication to young lives, her devotion to her family and community. He spoke of loss and grief and being welcomed into heaven where, he said with a slight smile, he was sure there would be an abundance of orchids. When he was done, he said a prayer and glanced toward the doorway where my daddy stood in his three piece black funeral suit and at a signal I never even saw, Miss Hazel began "Ave Maria" on the organ. Mourners rose and began filing out with clasped hands and bowed heads. Mrs. Sterling's oldest daughter paused at the casket for several minutes - she wept silently then touched her mother's hands gently before her husband led her away.

When the chapel was empty, the same four young men glided in and transferred the casket to the waiting hearse. My daddy saw to the details of the funeral procession then climbed into the lead car for the drive to the cemetery.
It was a ritual he had performed hundreds of times but he never gave less than his best, The dead deserve our kindness, I had heard him tell new apprentices, It's all we have to offer.