Hidden Feelings

She picked up the clump of dry earth in her hand and threw it onto the wooden casket. Pale and sad faces were lined up on either side of the grave and as one person finished throwing dirt onto the dark wooden lid, the next person did the same. It was hard to imagine that there was a body in the casket and that just one week earlier he had been alive and breathing, walking around, laughing, working at a project that would never have his name on the final copy - giving all the credit to someone else. John wouldn’t have minded though; he was that type of man.

Looking around at the crowds Moira wondered who would be next to lie in a wooden box in the ground, to stop living, never to breathe again, and to have all your friends and family cry over their loss.

 A ray of sunshine burst through a blob of cotton wool high above in the sky and shone directly on the gilt edge of the coffin and she realised how morbid she was being.  A little grey bird hopping from one branch to another on the tree next to her caught her eye and it brightened her momentarily and she found, even though crying one side of her lips lifting up in a tiny smile.

She stepped back to the spot she had been standing on and wiped away the falling tears with the back of her hand. The wind blew the scarf around her face and it lightly scraped her cheeks feeling like an insect was crawling on them.

Some of the people were whispering and sniffing. Someone blew their nose in-between gentle sobs.

A small unassuming man in a dark gown adorned with a red stole hanging down the front of it, stepped forward when the last of the dust had settled and spoke. “Give him, o Lord, your peace and let your eternal light shine upon him”. Amen.

More crying could be heard with the finality of the service and the thought running through most heads  that John Lincoln would never been seen again.

Moira hadn’t intended going to the wake – she couldn’t face it - but knew she should and when two or three people asked for a lift there she felt as if she couldn’t refuse. After all it was her brother-in-law, they were paying their respects to. All she really wanted to do was go home to the solitude of her home and think about things.

It seemed like five minutes ago that she stood at the graveside of her sister Liz, sobbing at the loss of her only sibling, gone way too early and passing away after a long and painful disease - robbing her of her forty third birthday by one day.

In a way when there aren’t children it’s a good thing, no kids to deal with the overwhelming sadness of losing both parents within a short time of each other.

The wake was held in the town hall – a very simple but meaningful place to hold it – the same building that John and Liz had their wedding reception all those years ago. The music coming through the doors that day was loud and happy but today someone was sitting on the old piano stool playing gentle tunes.

 It was a time to reflect and talk about what John meant to each individual. The two traits that stood out from the many good qualities he possessed and that John’s friends and family mentioned were his honestly and sense of humour. “Gosh he made me laugh” could be heard escaping the lips of many and also “I could trust John with my life”.

‘I wonder what they will think are my good traits when I go’ Moira thought to herself. ‘Not honesty, that’s for sure, but will anyone ever know now?’

The chatter grew louder in the small hall, cups and saucers clattered and a couple of people walked around with trays of food, telling everyone to ‘eat up or it will just go to waste’. Laughter could be heard with friends regaling stories about the fun times they shared with John.

She listened to some of the ‘John stories’ joining in with the laughter. “What about the time he had me utterly convinced that I’d won the lottery?” recalled one of his work mates. “I even called back and got it confirmed not knowing one of his tennis mates worked there. It was lucky I got the phone call on a Saturday and couldn’t tell my boss there and then where to shove his job!’ Hell, I had it all worked out down to the last dollar where all the money was going and the appointment to go in on the Monday morning to pick up the cheque! He told me on Sunday night that it was just a big joke but you know what? I almost cried AND I almost killed John!”

The group seemed to go a little quiet with the last words and the laughter petered out. “Ok that’s me done” Moira told the group she was standing with. “I’m tired and sad and need to go home to get out into the garden and brighten up a bit.

She walked out, waving and telling her friends she would be in touch.

Moira got into her car and started the engine, putting her seat belt on she looked at the surrounding trees, the leaves on the branches shaking wildly as if in a frenzy and she realised that she actually felt like those leaves – angry that John had died. She took off towards home. But a couple of kilometres down the road she had to pull over. Her eyes suddenly welled up and she felt a whoosh of sadness that went through her body leaving her trembling and cold. It was as if a life time of regrets and disappointment flooded her whole being. Uncontrollable sobs shook her and she took of her seat belt and put her head down towards her lap.

Loud noises came from her mouth and the more she wiped her eyes with tissues the more drops fell from them. Her hair was sticking to her face in the wet and she pushed it off. She wasn’t sure how long it took before the sobbing slowed down and she shuddered, needing to take a deep breath.

Moira recalled when she was a young girl and was in trouble with one or both of her parents, she would cry so loudly and for so long that it took at least half an hour for it to all calm down and the gasping for air to stop. That’s how she felt now.

As she sat there depleted of energy and wanting to just lie down and sleep, there was a knock on her window and she looked up suddenly to see an elderly man, a concerned look on his face staring at her.

She would down the window a little bit and he ventured closer to it saying to her “Are you ok love? I see you are rather upset… is there anything I can do to help?”

Moira sat up straight telling the kind old man “No thank you, I’m ok. I’ve just been to a funeral”. And with this she put the car into gear and took off.

When she pulled into her driveway, she knew there would be no garden for her today, just a comfy bed, a small dog and rest.

She soon fell into a deep sleep, her body relaxing quickly against the soft mattress. But before long the tossing and turning took over, with her thoughts running wild in her head. And somewhere in between falling asleep and waking up Moira dreamt.

She dreamt of the life she had missed out on, the years of love and happiness that had eluded her…the passing of her ‘tight skin and wrinkle free’ years without the man she loved to admire her looks, her child bearing years - the sound of a tiny voice calling out Mummy in the night and soft little fingers brushing her face. All the things she had always wanted and could have had but never did.

She saw the calm face of her sister Liz, dark blue eyes like the ocean on a stormy night, and her long dark eyelashes fluttering as she laughed.

Beside her was John. Kind, loving and faithful John. He too had dark eyes but brown, like chocolate buttons and the right eye had a small dot on the side closest to his nose, as if a minute drip of white chocolate had fallen on to it. His lips were full and looked soft, and when he smiled his face lit up as if a bulb had been switched on.

Moira woke to Tilly’s tiny pink tongue licking her cheek. “Stop Tilly. Yuk. Off the bed”. She commanded and the little terrier jumped down and scurried into the kitchen.

Moira stretched and wiped away the tears that had run down her face.

She knew that it would only be her secret now. John was gone and they both never told anyone.

The day is etched in her mind…she knows the exact day and year, even the time. It was a Friday night and John and Liz had just got engaged. They came over to tell Liz’s family and show off the ring.

They were all in the kitchen when Moira left suddenly to go upstairs to her bedroom. She needed to get out of the room and felt like she couldn’t breathe. As she walked towards the stairs, she heard John say to the family “Just off to the loo, back soon”. The laughter and chatter continued like normal in the kitchen.

He quickly ran up the stairs and gently called her name. “Moira, I’m sorry. I do love Liz but I’m so confused. I have feelings for you too. Just tell me that you feel the same, and I think you do. I can tell by the way you look at me sometimes – the same way I look at you. I will go right back down stairs and tell Liz – please tell me what I already know”.

In that split second Moira made a choice. She could either hurt her sister in the way that admitting her love for John would – a betrayal and a lost friendship for ever. She did love John and even though nothing had ever happened between them, the feelings were there. Or she could pretend, and live a lie everyday of her life hoping that her feelings for John would gradually disappear.

“John, l really think you’re mistaking brotherly love for a different kind! Who do you think you are…God’s gift to women? Anyway, I have my own lover to contend with – no-one’s met him yet so don’t say anything!”

“Moira I am so sorry. Please forgive me. I really thought…” he trailed off

“Don’t be ridiculous. Get downstairs to your ‘fiancée’ and I’ll be down soon. We won’t ever mention this ok?”

She walked into her bedroom and closed the door, and cried. She did feel a deep love for John – it was odd really but Moira felt as if he would be her one and only love, and that only she would ever know.

Wiping her face and taking a deep breath she walked back into the kitchen and hugged her sister. “I know you two will Have such a wonderful life together. I love you both. Now give me a good look at that rock on your finger”.

Liz and John did live a happy life, albeit a short one together really but for Liz twenty years of living with the person your heart belonged to and getting love and devotion back was pretty special.

Moira had missed out in lots of ways but the biggest void in her life was not being loved by that one special person. Even after Liz died, she could have gone to John with comforting arms but she didn’t.

She didn’t know if she was a saint or a fool but it was too late now whatever the answer.