Thursday, 10.23 PM

As the first tones from the piano sounded, life seemed to levitate her one last time. Open eyes, a single tear slowly finding it’s way down her cheek, a smile restoring part of who she once was. The night nurse, Ruby, slowly guided her up and helped her into her morning coat and sat her down on the piano bench. It’s been nineteen years.

They played together. To some a song, for them identity. The nurse closed the door as chords reverberated of the walls of the small room. Framed photographs of those who once were are now witnesses to the end of what is. No words were spoken, but a story was told until his last stroke on the keys. And her trembling fingers resting on his, before they slowly found their way up and came to a halt on his face. Her wrinkled skin touching the smoothness of his young cheeks.

“Max.” She spoke softly.

“How did you know?” Max replied.

“Because your father always made the same mistake in playing that song. Once you started with the F-Minor after the intermezzo,... I knew. You’ve become a man since you sat on my lap. And I became old.”
 

The sound of the clock on her dressoir was all that could be heard as both their thoughts drifted back into time. Memories of appreciation and disappointment collided as they remembered him who bound them together; a father and son. Another tear slid across her face.

“Are you okay?” He asked, as he gently wiped the tear away with his thumb.

“Don’t worry, dear. My sun is already setting. Yours is only rising. Tell me about your new job, will you?” Her voice sounded dry and fragile.

And he told her the stories from life on the west coast. Or at least the parts that wouldn’t make her cry more. She enjoyed hearing about the antiques shop. The idea that people could appreciate things from the old days, in a time where one could recognise so little from what once was, warmed her heart. He helped her to bed and softly pressed his lips on her forehead.

 

Wednesday, 11.05 AM

"On days like these we wish there was a peace-treaty between life and death. But death takes from the living to remind us to spend the time given to us well. In that light, we celebrate the life of Elisabeth, a wife, mother and grandmother. In her time she was an inspiration to all who knew her, despite the tough moments life presented to her."

The pastor nods and the men surrounding the grave are slowly lowering the casket. 

"Farewell." Max whispers.
 

“As we lower this casket, we sow her body into the earth next to those she loved. And from this moment she will rise up in heaven and bloom. We remain behind in the hope that the good she sowed in our hearts may bloom as well and that it makes us appreciative of life and caring for those who cross our paths in our time here.”

Max didn’t know most of the people, but shook their hands and accepted their condolences. The pastor was the last and gave him this look as if their was a connection, but he had never seen the man. The golden pocket-watch told Max it was time to get to the airport. They would expect him back in Las Vegas tomorrow. He was alone now, but he’d be okay - he was a man. A made man. He’d be okay.