2008 Woodie Awards
A belated hello to a timely goodbye
Jennifer McCafferty '07
Issue date: 10/12/06 Section: Portfolio
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They drove the last 15 minutes of the ride without speaking. It wasn't until the car stopped that Rachel's sister finally punctured the silence.
"You sure you don't want me to go with you?"
Rachel looked up from her folded hands to meet her sister's gaze. They were stopped in front of the church.
"I'll be OK. Thanks, though," Rachel said. She gave me a weak smile, then opened the door and stepped out into the brisk November sunlight. It was a lovely day: The trees looked like royalty adorned in their finest robes of red and gold, and the sky was absolutely cloudless. It was rather ironic, Rachel thought, that she should be spending such a day dressed in black and attending Kara's funeral.
Even more ironic was the fact that Rachel hadn't really known Kara, much less that she had died. The only reason Rachel had even come home this weekend was that her professor had the flu and cancelled Monday's class, and Rachel had been able to catch a ride home with her roommate. It wasn't until she was sitting in the living room with her parents that her mother told her that Kara Simmons, "You remember her, dear, don't you?" had died two days ago in a car accident.
For a moment, Rachel hadn't been sure if she did remember who Kara Simmons was. The name was vaguely familiar-and then, the recollection of a blonde girl from her fourth grade Girl Scout troop had burst into the calm of Rachel's mind. That Kara Simmons?
They had gone to the same grade school and high school. They had even taken a few of the same classes. But they had never spoken. It wasn't that there had been any animosity between them; indeed, there had been little of anything between them. And now, Rachel found herself joining the stream of people in black, winding its way towards the church door.
She stepped inside the dimly lit church, and after her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she scanned the pews for a place to sit. The building was packed, and there were large groups of mourners who had arrived together taking up entire rows, speaking lowly and occasionally replacing words with embraces. Rachel recognized some of them from high school; a few of them had been close friends with Kara and were distraught. She considered going over to say hello, but a sudden knot of awkwardness in her stomach compelled her to stop. What right did she, someone who had never even spoken to Kara, have to console Kara's friends? She could offer generic comfort, but nothing of real substance.
"You sure you don't want me to go with you?"
Rachel looked up from her folded hands to meet her sister's gaze. They were stopped in front of the church.
"I'll be OK. Thanks, though," Rachel said. She gave me a weak smile, then opened the door and stepped out into the brisk November sunlight. It was a lovely day: The trees looked like royalty adorned in their finest robes of red and gold, and the sky was absolutely cloudless. It was rather ironic, Rachel thought, that she should be spending such a day dressed in black and attending Kara's funeral.
Even more ironic was the fact that Rachel hadn't really known Kara, much less that she had died. The only reason Rachel had even come home this weekend was that her professor had the flu and cancelled Monday's class, and Rachel had been able to catch a ride home with her roommate. It wasn't until she was sitting in the living room with her parents that her mother told her that Kara Simmons, "You remember her, dear, don't you?" had died two days ago in a car accident.
For a moment, Rachel hadn't been sure if she did remember who Kara Simmons was. The name was vaguely familiar-and then, the recollection of a blonde girl from her fourth grade Girl Scout troop had burst into the calm of Rachel's mind. That Kara Simmons?
They had gone to the same grade school and high school. They had even taken a few of the same classes. But they had never spoken. It wasn't that there had been any animosity between them; indeed, there had been little of anything between them. And now, Rachel found herself joining the stream of people in black, winding its way towards the church door.
She stepped inside the dimly lit church, and after her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she scanned the pews for a place to sit. The building was packed, and there were large groups of mourners who had arrived together taking up entire rows, speaking lowly and occasionally replacing words with embraces. Rachel recognized some of them from high school; a few of them had been close friends with Kara and were distraught. She considered going over to say hello, but a sudden knot of awkwardness in her stomach compelled her to stop. What right did she, someone who had never even spoken to Kara, have to console Kara's friends? She could offer generic comfort, but nothing of real substance.