I turned to Sammi and asked, "Do you believe in magic?"
She nodded and softly said, "You know I do."
"Hold out your left hand, please." She did. On her third finger were the rings Andrea bought and we put on her finger. I lifted Momma's hand beside Sammi's. The rings on Momma's hand were identical to those on Sammi's and every other set in the room.
"Magic." I said. Each of us internally did what we felt was appropriate and right to say good-bye to dad's body. I went out to the nurse's station and told them dad was gone. The nurse I told looked at the monitor and saw the flat line. She and her coworkers went into action. We gave them room. The alarm had not sounded. On our walk out of the hospital Momma told me the arrangements had been made and paid for.
We took Momma home and once we were there Kay, Momma, Donna, Linda and I stayed. Sammi and the others drove to Casper and went shopping for something to wear to the funeral. Sammi and Kelly said they would bring me appropriate clothes. As they drove to Casper they stopped at the restaurant where Kay and I had been earlier. They told the waitress that Dad was gone. Sammi knew she would tell everyone that needed to know.
When we had been home about half an hour I found Momma sitting on the porch in her rocker. Dad's rocker was two feet away. I sat on the porch railing. She looked up and said, "When my mother died I was holding her hand. I felt a surge of energy and when it was over I had all her memories. I knew things I had never been taught. Isn't that what happened to you?"
"Yes, it is. In some ways, I know you better now than I ever have. I'm a little embarrassed that I remember intimate things that a son probably has no business knowing."
"I'm not your Momma any more. You aren't my son anymore. You knew that my rings changed. No one told you, you just knew. Now think about why the magic would have my rings match those of your other wives."
"You're my wife. Dad gave me everything, including you."
"If he didn't, all the magic would have faded away and we'd start being normal."
We sat quietly for a few minutes and then I moved into the vacant rocker. Kay came out with iced tea and a couple sandwiches. She sat on the railing and said, "When I first saw you sitting there I thought, that's Dad's rocker. It isn't. It's yours."
We sat in quiet for a while. I thought about how I had relied on Dad as the foundation for my life, for being my go-to guy for advice, wisdom and clarity. I thought about the people who now were looking to me. Women who had married me, committed their lives to my care, who trusted me to be the husband they needed and wanted, had started babies trusting that I would and could be counted on to protect, love and teach them.
I scooted my rocker a little closer to Momma's and reached for her hand. I heard her soft voice, 'Sam. Not Momma. I'm Momma to everyone else in the family, not to you.'
"I love you, Sam."
"I've known that from before you were born." The phone rang and Kay ran to answer it. A minute later she was back with the phone in her hand. She held it out to me with tears running down her face and said, "He wants to speak to the head of the family."
I took the phone and said, "This is Nick Peterson."
He was a voice from the coroner's office. He was at the hospital and wanted to know if we were willing to have any of Dad's organs donated. Sam spoke in my mind, 'He would be proud to be useful.'
"Yes! Use whatever you can." We were done. I gave the phone back to Kay and kissed her. She kept it with her. I said, "You could have answered his questions."
"I felt you. Part of you still wants to be the Nick of a couple days ago. If we're a tribe you just became Chief."
Sammi's voice came to us from Casper, 'Nick, do you want us to wear black?'
I answered, 'Nothing about Dad's life was black or even dark. You should wear things that have you feel joyful and sexy! Dad would like that. Dress as if he would be there, watching, being with us.'
'Thanks, Chief.' She was gone. Chief.
I looked out and saw a pick-up coming toward the farm. I said, "Kay, Honey, we're about to have visitors. Maybe we can offer them something cool to drink?"
"Gotcha." She said and went inside. I went inside and brought two chairs out onto the porch. A man and his wife got out of the truck and came onto the porch. Sam said, 'That's the minister from town. He's here to talk funeral. He's scared of witches.'
I invited the minister and his wife to have a seat and Kay brought out more iced tea. The minister asked about the service. He told us he already knew that most of the county would attend. Momma said she wanted someone to play the guitar and sing, "Turn, Turn, Turn." The minister's wife smiled and said, "From the Bible verse."
I said, "I'd also like someone to sing a John Denver song, "Poems, Prayers and Promises."
Any talk in the ceremony needs to be about the joy of his life and not about an afterlife. My Dad had a belief that ran his life, maybe you can speak about that. He taught me that our job, his and mine, in life was to protect, love and teach. At first I thought he wanted me to do that with my sister, LeeAnn. Later I learned he meant protect those who need protection, Love all who will open their hearts and teach whenever possible."
The minister said, "I think you just gave me a years' worth of Sunday sermons."
"For the funeral, let's keep in to under an hour. And, remind folks that this is a celebration of a wonderful life, please, no black." Momma said. Kay and I nodded.
They finished their iced teas and the minister's wife noticed Kay's rings. She said, "I didn't know you were married, Kay!"
"Yes, I am. My husband is a trucker." Kay showed her rings to the minister's wife.
"Where is he now?" The minister asked.
"He's parked in Florida looking for a load." Kay said.
"Well, I pray he'll find one soon." The minister said. With very little conversation more they got up and left us. The funeral was set for noon on Friday.