“I don’t expect you to help me with it but I am going to start arranging my funeral. I want it settled before I go. I don’t want you stuck having to do it.” I said hoping this time he would understand.
“Arranging your own funeral is a bit weird,” He said quietly.
“Knowing you are going to die for sure is a bit weird this is just being organized. I will make some calls and hopefully it will be done in a day.” I said.
“It makes it more real,” He whispered.
“I know. You must be tired from driving, do you want to stay here and watch a film?” I asked changing the conversation hoping that was what he wanted to do, as I didn’t have the energy to do anything else.
“Sounds good to me,” He said.
His mood instantly changing for the better.
Christopher was already awake when I had to climb over him quickly so I could be sick on the floor; I knew I wouldn’t make it to the bathroom or even the kitchen. In the mad rush to get free of the duvet and Christopher arms I fell to the floor and immediately started heaving but nothing was coming up. My stomach muscles were starting to hurt with every heave I took.
“Jas?”
“Give me a minute.” I choked out.
I collapsed on the floor breathlessly. On the few times I had managed to open my eyes I could see him itching to help me in anyway he could. I regained my strength and all I felt now was hunger.
“Please. Tell me if you are okay?” He begged sliding down beside me, rubbing my back soothingly.
“Apart from my stomach hurting I am okay now.” I said trying to sit up, he sprung into action and helped me.
“I think I am hungry?” I told him hoping I was and not the nausea. He led me into the kitchen and sat me the table and opened the fridge door.
“What do you fancy?” He asked.
Suddenly the thought of food made me feel nauseated again, I knew I had to eat something though.
“Um, some dried biscuits.” He looked at me questioningly asking me where they were kept, I looked back at him to say don’t look at me. He laughed and carried on his search. He opened every cupboard before finding them in the last one he looked in.
“Do you want a cup of tea to go with them?” He asked, I nod in reply and tuck into the biscuits with caution.
“You know, if Rose had got me these she would have put a few on a plate.” I said teasing him.
“Oh so you want silver service from me now? You sure are becoming a bossy wife,” He teased back bringing over two steaming mugs of tea.
I remembered that he was awake when I was rudely awakened on the sofa,
“How come you were awake?” I asked him. Normally he was the one who slept whenever he could. He shrugged not looking at me directly; this wasn’t like him at all.
“Talk to me, what is wrong?” I asked again pulling my chair closer to his.
“Were you serious about arranging your own funeral?” He asked finally looking at me. Oh, so this is what was worrying him.
“Yes I was, I would have arranged it myself before I met you again and now because you are in my life I want to do it even more.” I said hoping he would understand.
“Surely because I am in your life you don’t need to do it,” He retaliated.
I thought about what he said for a moment before answering not wanting to offend him.
“All my life I have had to do everything for myself, after so long I find it hard to let anyone help even now with you, I find it difficult not to snap at you when you are trying to help me through whatever this tumour throws at me.” I explained.
His eyes held so much pain I had to look away.
“I don’t want for you to be burdened with the responsibility of having to choose how to bury your dead wife.”
I knew I had overstepped the explanation but I needed him to be all right with this because I was going to do it with or without his help.
“The thought of you doing it makes me feel sick,” He said quietly.
“Well it isn’t on my list of favourite things to do but it needs to be done and I won’t have any of you doing it. You don’t even need to know when I do it.” I said standing up. I knew he wouldn’t understand, it hurt me to think my words were paining him but everything he has to face when this tumour does take my life, the last thing I want is for him to have to go through my funeral in detail on his own. At least this way he only has to show up, if he wants too.
“I am going to bed, you should know that I will be starting the arrangements in the morning, if you’re not around I will understand.” I said before leaving him sitting there in the kitchen on his own.
I took my PJ’s into the bathroom to get washed for bed; I looked in the mirror and I hardly recognised the woman staring back at me. I definitely had lost weight and my hair was looking limp and dull. It was even more depressing, what does he see in me? He had his chance to run for the hills while I was still pretty but he stayed so he could be married to the shadow of the woman I was. The weight of not being able to fully satisfy him and make him happy the way I could have crashed over me and I felt like I was suffocating. I lashed out and the nearest thing I could grab was my night cream and I threw it at the reflection as hard as I could. The mirror cracked instantly and in that moment the reflection I saw was how I saw was how I felt, a hundred Jasmines all looking back at me. I didn’t bother changing; I got into bed in my underwear.
I laid there wondering what I was going to do, I already knew he wouldn’t be happy about it but what was I suppose to do, let him go through the grief and have him lay me to rest, no. I did not want that, why couldn’t he see that?
I heard him enter the bedroom before I saw him. He undressed quickly and climbed in beside me.
“Don’t leave it like this.” He said.
I knew he meant that if I died tonight our last words would have been an argument. I turned around to face him, his eyes were wet but he wasn’t crying, my heart broke all over again.
“I can’t apologise enough but I want you no I need you to understand. I need to do this.” I whispered in the dark.
“If you do this then it is like you are admitting you need a funeral,” He said so quietly I barely heard him.
This time I was the one with wet eyes, this is what he was thinking, if he didn’t talk about it, if we didn’t make a big deal every time I suffered from the side effects that I wouldn’t die. Me bringing up the arrangements make it too real for him, part of me wanted that for him though. I already knew how much he loved me and sometimes that was why he closed himself away from the reality of our weird, short term but pure loving, passionate romance. I held his face so he had no choice but to look at me.
“I don’t need to admit I need a funeral, you do. You can’t hide away from it anymore, I am going to die soon and I want to be ready, I want you to be ready.” I said not stopping the tears that fell from my eyes.
“I don’t want to be ready, I can’t lose you,” He said not stopping the tears that fell from his eyes too.
This was the first time he has opened up to me on this level, I guessed this was how he was feeling but I had never heard it from his lips.
“I don’t know what to say to that Christopher.”
“I hate that there is nothing I can do and I hate how you talk about it like your doing the weekly shop.” He said.
“For starters you wouldn’t catch me doing the weekly shop, and how else do you expect me to be? If I let myself be brought down by this I wouldn’t be able to cope.” I said honestly.
“Your so strong.” He argued.
“I don’t feel strong most of the time, I just know this is happening to me and somehow I have to make the best of everything I can,” I said quickly while he was still listening, “I meant what I said earlier, you don’t have to be here when I speak to the funeral directors.” I repeated.
“No no, if you have to do it then I will too.” He said stroking my cheek.
There was nothing left to say
, I cuddled in closer to him and made my promise to wake up before we fell asleep.
I left Christopher asleep and went into my home office; I already had an idea of what I wanted. A simple funeral, quiet, small and private with the wake being held here. I searched online for local funeral homes and came up with a couple of possibilities, I jotted down their phone numbers and went down for breakfast. Rose and Henry were sat at the table eating, I may as well let them know of my plans, and I knew they wouldn’t give me the same reaction Christopher did. I called both funeral homes and felt more comfortable with the second one; we arranged for him to come by the house this afternoon. I told him the basics of my situation and he understood. The sooner I got this sorted the sooner we could move on and try to enjoy ourselves.
Rose and Henry had got the jist of my conversation from overhearing the phone calls so I didn’t have to go into detail, Henry remained quiet while Rose said she will make refreshments ready for four o’clock.
Once this was over I could relax and hopefully Christopher would be thankful. I decided to go for a swim; swimming always gave me time to think things through. I changed into a two-piece and slipped into the warm water. Watching the rippling affect was therapeutic; pushing myself through the water I began swimming laps. My muscles began to unwind with every breaststroke I took. On reflection I understood his reluctance in having any part of the funeral arrangements, I wouldn’t want to go through the same if it were him in this situation but he had to stop hiding from the notion that it is not going to happen, my death won’t be a shock unless he keeps thinking I can survive this. I stopped swimming to catch my breath perching myself on the edge of the pool, it felt complicated again. I repeatedly told myself I wasn’t being selfish, that he knew what he was getting himself into when he came back into my life for keeps knowing full well what was going to happen to me. The small rational part of my conscious scolds me for not letting him go when the heartache would have been minimal but selfishly I kept hold of him because I couldn’t be without him. I pushed back into the water on my back, keeping myself afloat giving up on trying to sort through this madness. I cleared my head and thought of nothing, escaping to a place where I could be on my own with no worries.
It didn’t take long to feel relaxed once again, I dipped under the water and swam back to the edge, and Christopher was standing waiting with a towel.
“Rose said you were in here.” He said as he helped me out of the pool, he was dressed in his jogging bottoms and nothing else, the sight of his chest was memorising.
“I thought I would have a swim, try to clear my head.” I said explaining why I wasn’t in bed when he awoke.
“Did it work?” He asked.
“Yes, I didn’t mean to upset you last night and the last thing I want to do is hurt you but this is something I have to do.” I said wanting him to understand.
“I know and I will be here for you, come on, let’s get some breakfast,” He said handing me a robe.
For the rest of the day Christopher played his xbox game while I wrote down my plans so I wouldn’t forget anything. I was praying I could have this sown up today so we could put it behind us.
Mr Brown from the funeral showed up on time, Henry directed him to the kitchen, I had been so adamant about this and now I wasn’t sure if I could go through with it.
“I will be right here with you.” Christopher reassured me wrapping his arms around my waist.
“Come on.”
“Mr Brown I am Jasmine Jenson, this is my husband Christopher Jenson.” I said making sure we were all introduced. He stood and shook our hands although Christopher was more reluctant to do so. Once we sat and drinks had been offered I explained my situation in detail.
“Okay so now that is out of the way, do you have any thoughts on what you would like?” Mr Brown asked.
“Oh she has plenty of thoughts, they are all written down in her notebook.” Christopher muttered sarcastically, I frowned at him; I thought he had come around to the idea of me doing this? Obviously not, Mr Brown let it slide and carried on.
“Let’s start with the service, what type would you like?” He asked.
“A burial, there is a church in Fen Ditton I like and I have already paid for a plot in the cemetery on Ditton Lane, there will not be many people attending so we will not have to cater for many.” I said.
“Right, I have brought with me some examples of coffins or if you prefer caskets.” He said pulling out a catalogue. How could it get any more depressing than looking through a coffin catalogue?
“Actually I would like a black coffin with my company’s logo in hot pink on the top and I would like these handles on it in silver.” I said pointing to the ones in the catalogue. Mr Brown noted everything down I was saying while Christopher sat looking anywhere but at us.
“Would you like anyone specifically to act as pallbearers?” He asked. As I was about to answer Christopher sat forward and re-entered into the conversation.
“I would like to be one of the pall bearers.” He said to Mr Brown.
“No way, you are not doing that.” I said disgusted at the idea of him carrying me dead in a box.
“Jas I…” I cut him off silencing him by holding my hand up. I looked at Mr Brown and told him to sort the pallbearers himself.
“I would like this melody played, the song means a lot to me.” I said moving away from the topic of pallbearers and handing him the piano sheet music.
We continued talking about the finer details for over an hour. Every now and then I would feel like Christopher was going to get up and leave, I would hear him tut and his leg would not stop shaking, the looks he was throwing Mr Brown had me sinking into my chair. Christopher wasn’t hiding the tears that fell, it was plain to see he wasn’t handling this. I couldn’t blame him but if I broke down then I would have to give him the burden of carrying on with it and I couldn’t do that.
“Excuse me, I can’t do this.” Christopher said releasing my hand.
He pushed his chair back and stood up.
“I am sorry,” he said before leaving.
I went to follow him but Henry told me to give him a minute.
“Don’t worry Mrs Jenson, I understand. These are difficult times and we handle it in our own ways.” he said kindly.
I gave him a small smile without meeting his eyes.
“Is that everything?” I asked thinking we had covered everything.
“Yes, if I have to I will contact Henry Robinson for further instruction as you have asked. If you have any further queries here is my personal number, call me anytime.” He said handing me a card over the table.
“Thank you Mr Brown, it was nice meeting you but I wish I didn’t have to.”
“I understand completely.”
“I will leave you with Henry, he will show you out.” I said shaking his hand before dashing to find Christopher.
He wasn’t in the living room and he wasn’t anywhere to be found upstairs. I collapsed on the bed, maybe this was too much for him to cope with and he finally left me. I wouldn’t blame him. The reality of what I had just done sunk in; I had done everything bar sign my own death certificate. I was glad only to be doing this the once, I couldn’t face going through that again.
I hadn’t checked outside, I bolted upright grabbing my coat on the way downstairs. I saw the security light on outside the front, he was talking to Mr Brown and Henry, when he saw me he shook Mr Browns hand and walked over to me.
“What was all that about?” I asked as he took me back in the house where it was warm.
“Nothing, let’s see what Rose is cooking for dinner, you haven’t eaten since yesterday.” He said ushering me through the door.
I gave him the benefit of the doubt and didn’t ask no more questions, he was probably apologising for his behaviour.
Henry and Rose had begun eating their meals with us up the table but tonight dinner was too quiet, it was beginning to irritate me.
“Someone please say so
mething.” I begged.
They all looked up at me, they still didn’t know what to say so I helped them out.
“It is done now, I feel better knowing I am not leaving you with the burden, let’s just forget about it.” I said digging into my pasta.
“That has to be one of the most fucked up afternoons I have ever spent.” Christopher said not looking up from his plate. It wasn’t what I expecting him to say but at least he was talking,
“I know, I was there too.” I retorted, the tension was building around us, Henry and Rose took their meals silently into the living room giving us some privacy.
“Jas you arranged how you are going to be buried, you’re not fighting this at all,” His voice getting louder as he went on, “Do you know how hard that was for me to listen to my wife explaining in detail how she wanted her coffin designed for fuck sake?” He shouted.
“How hard it was for you, how do you think it felt for me, the coffin is for me after all,” I shouted back, “Just because I wanted to do this didn’t mean it was fun for me.” I slumped back.
We sat there not saying anything for what seemed like forever, I wanted to go and sit next to him if not on his lap but if I did that then it would be like I was admitting he was right and I didn’t think what I did was wrong. After a few minutes I thought he was getting up to leave again but he came and sat next to me, he took my hand in his and kissed it softly.
“I am sorry for the way I acted, I forget sometimes how hard this is for you when you deal with it so easily. It is hard enough knowing I am going to lose you soon without knowing how it is going to be played out when you are laid to rest.” He choked out.
“We will forget about it now, we have my forever to do anything we want.” I said moving onto his lap to be in his arms. He leaned down and kissed me, his lips warm on mine.
“How would my wife like to spend Christmas Eve?” He asked changing the conversation, we were good at that.
“I don’t know, I usually work. What do you normally do?” I asked him frowning at how pathetic I sound.
“I usually go out for drinks with everyone then head to my mums and stay over hers.”