what does death look like?

“Ashes to ashes, dust to dust” The priest said. He stood at the head of the casket. He was clad in a traditional ceremonial robe. He gazed at the family and friends of the deceased, Franklin Pratt. He offered the crowd a heart-felt sympathetic smile. The priest bowed his head for a moment of silence.

Frank had been a member of the churches congregation for the last twenty years of his life. He was well known and loved by the community.

James was Frank’s 12-year old son. He stood beside Beth, his newly widowed mother. He gently squeezed her hand as the tears streamed down his face. He lowered his head and softly wept. James felt his mothers’ arm curve around his waist; she pulled him close. He no longer felt alone. James laid his head on her shoulder.

“Lord, as we lay this fine man down to rest, we ask and pray that you take him under your wing...”

James listened to the priests’ prayer half-heartedly. He slipped deep in to his mind and completely tuned out the funeral service. He thought of a time not so long ago. Images of his father flashed through his mind. He missed his father greatly. James, deep in his sub-conscience, remembered the day his father died.

There were a few clouds in the bright blue sky and the sun was blistering hot. The trees were full of color and the flowers were in full bloom. It was a beautiful summer day. When a delicate breeze came along it brought the scent of flowers, freshly cut grass, and the neighbor’s barbeque.

James spent most of the day with Frank on the roof of their two-story Victorian styled house. They started tearing off the old roof early that morning. It needed to be replaced for years. The old shingles were deteriorating. James found several soft spots that needed repairs.

“Frank? James?” Beth called.

“Hi honey. What’s up?” Frank replied as he poked his head over the edge.

“Dinner’s almost ready.” Beth said.

“Okay, we’ll be right there.” Frank said disappearing from her sight.

“All right James, grab all the tools and lets go clean up for dinner.” Frank announced.

“Okay Dad.” James answered happily. “ I’m starving!”

James gathered the tools and walked to the edge of the roof. “Look out below” James called out as he tossed to the tools to the ground. He mounted the ladder carefully and climbed down. He waited at the bottom for his father. James watched his father walking around the roof.

“Come on Dad. I got all the tools.” James yelled.

Frank moved cautiously down the slope of the roof. He stood at the edge, smiled and waved to his son. Frank reached for the ladder. He lost his balance when the boards gave way under his weight. Frank screamed as he plummeted to the ground.

“DAD!” James cried.

His eyes welled with tears as he watched his father fall. James’ eyes automatically closed when his father’s head made contact with the ground. The sound of his neck snapping echoed loudly. James ran to his father crying and screaming for help. He knelt down beside his father’s body.

“Da – Dad? Dad get up! Please Dad, wake up!” James screamed as he nudged his father.

Franks’ face was bluish in color and void of expression. Blood trickled from the corners of his eyes and out of his nose. James stared into the blackness of his father’s eyes. He now understood what death looked like.

“May he rest in eternal peace, Amen.”

James heard the priest ending his prayer. He trembled in his mother’s tight embrace. In agony he cried out, “I want him back! I want my daddy back!”