This story is part of an ongoing series.
The chronological order of my stories is listed in WifeWatchman's biography.
Feedback and
constructive
criticism is very much appreciated, and I encourage feedback for ideas.
This story contains graphic scenes, language and actions that might be extremely offensive to some people. These scenes, words and actions are used only for the literary purposes of this story. The author does not condone murder, racial language, violence, rape or violence against women, and any depictions of any of these in this story should not be construed as acceptance of the above.
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Part 15 - Tears
Sheriff Griswold reached Laura as I began walking down the hall after him. "I'm sorry." she said, tears flowing down her cheeks. "We did all we could..."
Dazed, Griswold turned and went through the OR doors. Laura made a feeble gesture to stop him, but it was too late. Just then I got to Laura. She fell into my arms and cried on my shoulder as I held her.
After a moment, I whispered "I need to go get the Sheriff." Laura nodded. She and Cindy hugged as I went through the doors.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * *
It's never shown on TV, but certain things go on after a patient dies in the operating room. Those things were going on when Sheriff Griswold appeared in the room. The attendants barely had time to cover Mrs. Griswold's body with a cloth as the dazed widower came up to the table. He began sobbing when he saw his wife's face, and he went over to her side and sobbed "I love you..." several times.
Dr. Morgan was about to intervene when he saw me come in. I came up to the Sheriff and put my hand on his shoulder. He looked spooked as he looked up over his shoulder at me.
"They've done all they can, Sheriff." I said. "We'll take care of the rest. Come on." I put my arm around his shoulders and led him out of that room. Things were kind of blurry, as tears were flowing down my cheeks as well as everyone else in the room. Even Dr. Searles was emotional. I just nodded to them as I got the Sheriff through the door...
* * * * * * * * * * * * * *
6:00pm, Thursday, August 15th. One thing I have always liked about my Town & County is that despite its size, it still has that small town feel, and people act like residents of a small town. Never was that shown better than in the time of a death of a loved one.
Presbyterians began doing Presbyterian things, and soon there was more food in the Griswold home than anyone could eat in two days. Cindy had followed me to the Sheriff's house and was taking and storing the food in the refrigerator and freezer, and she ended up using the Sheriff's fish freezer on the back porch for some of the meat dishes.
The Rev. Dr. Edward Ayers, the Presbyterian minister arrived within a few minutes of us, but it was the arrivals of Police Chief Sean Moynahan and Chaplain Alberto Romano that might've been the most helpful. Father Romano was in his Police Duty Dress uniform, and for the first time in my memory he was wearing a white shirt and black tie instead of his black shirt and white clerical collar.. He was here as the Police Captain he was. And as both he and Chief Moynahan were widowers themselves, they understood most fully what Sheriff Griswold was now enduring.
It was times like these that the Police Public Relations Officer, Captain Damien Thompson, earned his paycheck. It had been his duty to put out the Press releases, and to notify the Public Safety Department as well as the Mayor in an official kind of way. And he handled things very well.
And I took it upon myself to be the Police Officer attending to the Sheriff's needs. No one was fooled: this was far more than an official duty. I was doing this as a member of the Sheriff's family... his only remaining family.
I talked with Dr. Ayers about what day was best for the funeral, Saturday or Sunday. He asked the Sheriff, who just said 'I don't know yet... I just don't know yet..." We did set the 'visitation' for Friday evening.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * *
It was after dark, and despite the summer warmth a good fire was burning in the fire pot in the Sheriff's backyard near the lake. He was sitting in a chair out there, with Father Romano and Chief Moynahan on either side of him.
"I caught a little of what they were talking about." Cindy said to me as we stood in the kitchen and looked out into the backyard. "They talked about their wives and losing them, how unexpected it was and everything. I think it's helping, but just having them there is helping him more."
I nodded. "Yes, I'm glad they're there, too. I sure don't know what to say in times like these."
Cindy said "I'm glad you were there at the hospital, though. Laura didn't know what they were going to do when the Sheriff went into the O.R., but he responded to you when you led him out." I just nodded.
After a while, Chief Moynahan and Father Romano came back inside. "He wouldn't come inside with us." the Chief said.
"Thanks. I'll go talk to him." I said. I first took a shawl from the sofa in the living room, then went outside. Sheriff Griswold had put more logs on the fire, then sat down in a reclining chair.
"How're you doing, Sheriff?" I asked as I came up.
"Okay." said Griswold. "Have a seat, Crowbar." I sat down in one of the chairs, and we watched the fire and the blackness of the lake beyond it.
The Sheriff spoke first. "Thank you for coming in and taking me out of the O.R., Crowbar. I never should've gone in there. I'm not sorry I did, but I'll apologize to the doctors and nurses."
"Yes sir," I said, "but I think they understood. And who's gonna stop the County Sheriff, if not his often-insubordinate Police Commander?"
"Har." growled the Sheriff, who then said: "You weren't being a Police Commander at that moment, Crowbar. You were being the family that you are to me. I'm thankful you were there for me."
"Yes sir." I said. "And in that capacity, I'm going to make the funeral arrangements tomorrow. Do you want the funeral on Saturday or Sunday?" This had to be asked, and I sensed it was as good a time as any.
The Sheriff contemplated, then said "Saturday. Any reason to delay it?"
"No sir." I said.
"I'll leave it all to you, Crowbar." said the Sheriff. "You'll pick out the right casket, and Cindy and Laura will pick out the right clothes. Dr. Ayers is handling the funeral service itself. He told me that my wife had talked with him about her service... and mine... some time ago, before she began getting ill..." He stopped talking, and I saw the tears beginning to flow.
"Sheriff, want to come inside and get some sleep?" I asked. "Laura left me a pill for you to take."
"No, I just want to sit out here for a few minutes." said the Chief. "And think about things..."