chapter 4

Ta-thump
August 12, 1991
Amos is dressed in his best suit for what he hopes is the last time, he is 71 years old. Looking in the mirror he wishes his best suit were maybe just a little better, polyester pants, uncomfortably warm on a summer day, and printed shirts not being in the same favor they were when Ellen had picked the suit out for him. Amos lives on a pension though and a new suit just wasn’t in the budget, and besides his wife had picked this suit out specifically. He didn’t feel right replacing it. So Amos sat in his chair waiting patiently for his daughter, hoping he didn’t embarrass his grandson too greatly.
When Ella arrives, she steps out of her car and Amos is astonished at how beautiful she is and also at how much his chest hurts seeing her there. It could have been Ellen. Her hair is swept back off her face in a tight bun which would look severe on a person with even slightly forbidding features. Ella always looks kindly and gentle, even when she’s angry. She’s wearing a beautiful peach colored dress, with her mothers pearls at her neck and a pair of matching earrings that Amos had made for her to match the necklace. She wears a peach satin wrap around her shoulders, draped through the elbows and clutches a ridiculously small peach satin handbag in her hand. Through some magic of female aesthetics, her skin shimmers in the sun setting off her tan and giving her a youthful appearance, which was no doubt her intention. Her make up is obviously professionally applied, Amos knows she’s wearing it but he can’t see it. He notices her nails, long shiny and perfectly cut in a shade that matches her dress perfectly. He has a private quiet chuckle as he watches her navigate the stairs and front porch. His daughter has never worn high heels well and she walks with extreme caution and care while trying to give the appearance that she is doing nothing of the kind, as though she is drunk and trying very hard not to let anyone know.
Ella walks into the house wearing her mothers favorite perfume, Chanel 5, and pins a peach colored boutonniere to his lapel, kissing him on the cheek as she adjusts his tie and collar. She makes him take off his shoes so she can apply a fresh coat of polish, and puts his cufflinks on for him. She exchanges his regular watch for the one he wears when he dresses up and fondly combs his thin hair. She drags him off to the bathroom and drapes a large dish towel around his neck, pulling sandalwood shaving cream out of the cabinet. She applies aftershave to his face and neck, making his skin sting and his eyes water and then sprays cologne on the front of his shirt. She looks him over critically, as only a mother can and Amos heaves a sigh of relief when he passes muster. He doesn’t see the point in all this fuss, no one will be looking at him. Until he looks at Ella and realizes how important this day is for her, her son is getting married and directly after the honeymoon he will be moving to China with his new wife to pursue his career until he can be transferred back to Canada. Amos understands wanting to remember things perfectly and not wanting any regrets. He knows Ella is more than happy for her son, and that her heart is breaking because she doesn’t know how long he will be gone away. He understands her fear, and her need to make sure that everything goes smoothly. He understands that very well.
Later they sit side by side in the pew at the church, his daughter on his left and an empty space on his right. Out of respect, his grandson had left an empty space out of remembrance for his grandmother, which Amos was very grateful for considering Jeremy never met his grandmother. Amos reflects on the passage of time, the image of an hourglass tumbling through his mind. One year by itself, like a grain of sand is so small and inconsequential, passing with the promise of other grains of sand to come until suddenly you look behind you and realize there are far more grains of sand behind you than in front.
Banishing that morbid line of thought, Amos focuses on his nervous looking grandson. Amos remembers standing in the same place, what seems like a lifetime ago. He recognizes the look of stark terror in his grandsons eyes and wishes he could tell him not to worry, she’ll be here. They almost always are, god help them although Amos isn’t always sure he knows why.
Amos watches as his grandsons fiancé, Maeling, walk down the isle looking foreign and proud. She wore the fanciest dress Amos had ever seen, very different from what his wife wore. Where his wife wore a high necked dress made of lace and white satin, this woman wore a clinging dress that fit snugly around her tiny waist, her train dragging behind her by several feet. The whole thing was inlaid with seed pearls, plain in it’s own way and yet very elaborate, Ellens had been decorated with excessive amounts of embroidery and what Amos thought may have been doilies. Where Ellen had worn a veil that covered her dark hair, the front layer pulled over her face, this tiny woman wore her dark thick hair piled on top of her head in curls without a veil. In her arms she carried a large bouquet of white lilies and white roses, which she had come late last evening to clip from Amos garden. He thought Ellen would be pleased to know that a part of her effort and devotion had touched this special occasion, even so many years after her death. On his own wedding day, he had not been able to afford much more than silk flowers and ribbon to bind them with for Ellen, and yet she had looked just as radiant and proud as Maeling did at this very moment. Her dress combined with exotic features set her apart from every woman there. Jeremy met her in China, where they will return after their honeymoon for a few years until he can be transferred back to Canada where they can start a family. Amos doesn’t recognize all of the words in the ceremony, and their wedding is a blend of both customs and yet Amos finds it all familiar. A sad smile plays across his face as he thinks, watching thoughts and emotions playing across both Jeremy and Maelings face. Remembering the way his wife had looked at him standing in the very same position so many years ago and how he felt standing beside her, he supposes that language barriers and strange customs aside, love is the same in any language.
Later, at the wedding reception after dinner he slips his arm around his daughter, knowing she will understand that he is ready to go home. She smiles at him, looking as tired as he feels. He realizes again with a flash that his daughter is not a child anymore, she is not even a young woman. There must be days where she feels her own age. All the same, she smiles at him and tugs him out to the dance floor, the tune of “Brown Eyed Girl” blaring from the DJ’s speakers. This song has always been a favorite of hers, and she has only ever danced it with her father. Not really knowing why, Amos treasures those few minutes out on the dance floor, holding the woman he loves most.