Overheard memories…...

As she sat alone in the tall backed seat leaning on one hand, exhaustedly staring down at the soft colors forming in the cup as she stirred the coffee that would give her that little boost to make it the rest of the way home. This afternoon she is having 2 creams and 4 sugars, usually, she would only have 2 and 2 but last night’s shift had, unfortunately, ran longer than she had expected, and she needed that extra spark.  As she stirred and processed the day's events she couldn't help hearing the conversation that was happening in the booth behind her. 

“Yes I think about death all the time.” one friend said. 

She had the raspy voice of someone who had probably smoked for many years and you could hear the damage it had done, it wasn't nails on a chalkboard but it was that kind of annoyance that could drive a person to drink. She silently prayed that the woman was on a road to recovery and that there were no other issues. Smoking was something that had been hard for her and she knew the devastations it could leave behind. 

She couldn't see what the women looked like but she could see the shadows that fell upon the floor, and she had been watching them forming her own visions in her head. The sun was just beginning its descent into the darkness of the night and the diner floor was in need of some repairs that made the shadows look silly like the reflection from a fun mirror. She remembered the fun she had with her little sister in the funhouse of the carnival that her family had visited every year in the old department store parking lot. Even though the shadow was a bit distorted she could see that one of them had an updo that she imagined to look like a messy beehive from the 1960s. She imagined this woman to be full of life and constantly on the move. The other friend's hair was in a single ponytail that was almost poking straight out of the top of her head as if she was upside down when she put it up.  She imagined her having small children and not always having as much energy as her dear friend possessed. They both talked with constant movements either being their hands or their heads and every now and again she felt the booth move from a passionate moment in a story that was often followed by laughs that forced a smile to appear on her own face as she listened in. She imagined the events they must have shared together and their most passionate memories they had when they were not with each other. They were just so fluid with each other and so perfectly in sync to each others needs.

“Why do you think we tend to think about death so much?”, asked the pony tailed friend as she sat waving her fork in the air.

“ I suppose for me, I just want answers. What really happens when you can no longer carry the flesh of your body around? I mean, will I know I'm dead? Will my conscience still be aware that I am me, or that I was me?”, beehive replied.

This bit of eavesdropping soon started to take her and her tired breaths to a place of her own questioning. Would she know she had lived a good life? Will she be reunited with her loved ones? She had lost a few family members that she loved so much and really all she wanted was a chance to see them again and to hold them, even though hugging really wasn't her forte she would give almost anything to touch, smell and hear them all again. She sat there remembering the nights when she was a kid and she and her mother would go sit at the local diners in and around the small little farm town in which they lived. They had their special seats at each place, at least two in case one was being occupied. They would visit and the order was usually the same every time, coffee for mom and hot chocolate for her, often an order of fried cheese sticks to accompany, that was usually compliments of the waitstaff, fried cheese can be pricey and the budget wasn't always big enough. Her thoughts were jerked to the sound of the music playing out of the speakers in the ceiling and she remembered how she would always search the car on the way for quarters for the jukebox, every table had its own mini jukebox attached to the wall right over the table, just high enough to store a napkin holder and all the necessary condiments under it. 

The thought of death in her life at that time was not something that she remembered thinking about but it did absolutely come more frequently these days.  It had been almost 20 years since she had lost her mother and the empty feeling she held within would most likely never be filled again. Oh what she wouldn't give to have her mother sitting there in the booth across the table with her, she had so much to tell her. So much had happened since their last meeting!

The waitress appeared around the corner, jarring her back into the now,  and asked if she could bring anything, also informing her that her food was almost ready and would be out soon. 

“Yes, can I get an order of fried cheese, please?”

“Of course, would you like some dipping sauce with them?, we have the traditional tomato marinara as well as a nice creamy buttermilk ranch oh and also we have a limited tasty cheddar cheese sauce, and I know it seems weird to think of dipping cheese in cheese but it is ooooooh sooooooo good!.” she almost squealed with excitement. 

She briefly thought about the sauce her mother used to mix together using mayonnaise and ketchup, and she uncontrollably wrinkled her nose in disgust, but also a smile in remembrance of the consistency in her mother's weird food combinations. Like when she used to eat pickles and cottage cheese with a peanut butter hot fudge sundae on the side!

“May I have the traditional marinara and the cheese also?”

“Of course, I will go get that order in and be back soon with your food.” the waitress said as she sauntered away.

She stopped briefly at the booth behind her, walking up just as the ‘beehive’ friend was speaking about all the loved ones she missed that had also joined the realm of the dead. The waitress listed about half a dozen people that she had also lost and they discussed the afterworld and how crowded it must be there!

At the mention of this, her imagination sparked again and she wondered if when you get to wherever you're going if you could see anyone you wanted or if there would be issues with traveling like here in the living world. I mean could you just be like I wanna see Elvis and he is just there? Upon this vision, she could see her mother and grandmothers sitting in front of the majestic Elvis as he sang to only the three of them. And she imagined how well they were getting along and the things that had been forgotten in the afterlife.. 

“I hope they haven't forgotten me,” she whispered to herself as she took a sip of her now room-temperature coffee.