SOPHIA
The emanating smell of flowers hit me in the face as I entered through the heavy doors. I started walking on the red carpet that led to the place where I was going. I had no idea where, but my legs seemed to direct me. There was an elaborate crystal chandelier in the center of the room that greeted me whose light accentuated a huge round white marble table that had a gold vase filled with fresh flowers. I continued to walk around it and further in. I then found myself facing a hall with different rooms from opposite sides of me. The airless stifling feeling, not to mention the eerie quietness of the place roused my consciousness and realized that I was at a funeral parlor. I got behind a line of people going to one of the rooms. There were soft whispers, touch greetings and rumpled tissues in hands. The line moved slowly and stopped at a free-standing formal sign by the door.
My eyes zeroed in on my name Sophia Marie Evans Dawson July 13, 1965-July 20,2015.
My name is Sophia.
I am a 50-year-old retired woman, wife to my husband Greg of 20 years and mother to three adult children.
On the night of July 15, 2015, I was brutally murdered upon entering my home. Greg was injured but lived. I don’t really know how this is possible
but I AM AT MY OWN WAKE!
A smile crept on my face, as I heard the soft music in the background. It was the original playlist I left my daughter Maggie which she saved on her phone.
“Mom, you are absolutely insane” she muttered at such a bizarre request.
“Well, you know, here today gone tomorrow, that’s how life is, and I only want my favorite songs played on my wake”.
I gazed at her seated by her dad at the front pew, her hands on his arms. My beautiful 25-year-old, who has always been Daddy’s girl, was giving comfort to Greg.
My attention then reverted to the center of the room. I could not believe I was staring at my own coffin. I told Greg that if I went first, I would like it to be a closed casket with my best portrait on top.
“Sophia, might you be so vain” he teased “A lot of people want closure and would like to see you for the last time”.
“Yes, but I want them to remember me when I was alive and not look as stiff as a mannequin.” I replied.
I continued to walk around. It was quite a crowd. It seemed like everyone that I’ve ever known came.
Of course, by now, I am certain that they could not see me, so I took advantage of staring at each of their faces. Some I’ve known all my life, some I’ve come to know recently and others that I did not even consider friends, and yet here they were.
Police had absolutely no lead or suspects at this time. Nothing was taken, and so they ruled out robbery. One thing they commented on was the fact that there was hardly any evidence left at the crime scene. The suspects were definitely pros.
At 50, I felt like my life was cut short. Maggie and her fiancée Will, just got married at the beginning of the year and she found out that she was pregnant after their honeymoon to the Bahamas. They videotaped me on Mother’s Day opening a present from them and out came a onesie that read “Sexy Grandma”. I burst into tears almost immediately. It was the happiest day of my life and something that I have waited for, for a long time.
I saw Ric, my second child, trying to balance 4 cups of coffee on the tray as he headed towards Maggie and Greg. These 23-year-old robust son of mine is finishing his masters in Robotic Science while working as a Senior Engineer at a Software Company.
He was my partner in crime and my very best friend. He was very protective of me in everything. His red puffy eyes that looked like he had not slept for days prove that he was not doing well.
He represented Greg during the investigations and all the dealings with law enforcement. He coordinated with his sister Maggie who is a practicing Attorney about legal matters. He even appeared on the news urging witnesses to come forth offering cash rewards of his own money.
I heard Sonia’s voice speak on the mic.
“We are starting the Service in 5 minutes, so may I request everyone to find their seats please”.
My youngest, who is really a replica of me, had just graduated from Nursing School and is now getting ready to take her Board Exam. We were often mistaken as twins because the resemblance was uncanny. We constantly butt heads because we are so alike.
But despite that, we love watching romantic comedies together. We often disagreed on just about everything, but we definitely cannot live without each other. She cried her eyes out in Ric’s arms, as she grieved my passing.
“I feel like I lost a limb or something. I will never be the same”.
After the service and the memorial video was played, I looked around and saw tears in everybody’s eyes but not mine.
As I watched my life story, I saw this woman always full of smiles for the camera, who loved life, who still has a lot going for her and to have someone mercilessly decide to end her life for any reason seemed unfathomable. My heart hardened almost instantly about the unfairness of the situation. I know that no matter what, all of our lives are bound to end at a definite time and we don’t have a say as to how. But for victims of violent crimes, there is this continuous need to find answers if only to put the puzzle together and be able to find peace.
As if on cue, I saw Greg turn his face to where I was, and just stared.
“Can you see me?”.
My heart was hopeful. After what seemed like an eternity, he turned his face back to the screen.
