The section marked off for family was filled with people she barely knew. Glancing over her shoulder into the crowd behind her she recognized a few familiar faces, friends, walking along the aisle. They, too, were wearing black. She gave a slight smile and waved. It was acknowledged, and she turned back around to face front.

It was beginning.

A baby on the front row squawked. She was wearing a velvety red dress with black shoes. Babies aren’t supposed to wear black. The mother turned and handed the baby over the back of the pew to her. She stood, conscience that most eyes were focused on her and the baby, instead of the speaker at the front. The lady beside her, the ladies on both sides of her offered to take the baby, but despite being related, she barely knew them. The baby didn’t know them at all. Edging her way past, she slipped into the aisle and tip-toed and bounced the baby to the back of the room. The baby was quieter now with crackers being pushed into her mouth, but still fussy. Her aunt bounced her again and switched hips, cuddling the baby and trying to hear what was being said. The baby’s mother was at the front of the room, standing, facing the audience, talking with a steady determination. Again the baby made a noise. People turned to look at them, offered to take the baby out of the room.

You don’t understand, she thought. She has ever right to stay in the room and cry. Her daddy’s up there in that box, even if she doesn’t realize it. She’s too young to know that she should be crying, but she is anyways. Some of them were crying too. But she stepped out of the room anyways.

Rocking the baby until she was asleep, she slipped back into the room to sit on the bench on the back. She barely heard what was being said; she wasn’t paying attention. All her thoughts focused on the child in her lap. Then it was over, people filing out row by row, glancing at the sleeping baby as they passed. Once they cleared the room, the men who had sat across from the family stood and approached the front. She stood and followed them, joining the family, then stepping to the side out of the way, the sleeping baby still draped across her arms. As she turned, she bumped the baby’s foot against something and woke her. Men opened the doors beside her as she tried to lull the baby back to sleep, but was no use. The men surrounded the coffin and wheeled it out the door. She made sure that he baby could see. She won’t remember it, and couldn’t understand the significance, but still it seemed important. She was reminded of To Kill a Mockingbird, “Jean-Louis stand up. Your father’s passing”.

They both watched as the baby’s father was lifted into the back of the hearse.