No Music In Mother's House

A lot of people went to Mother's funeral. Most came out of curiosity rather than concern, but there were a precious few that worried for Rachel and wanted to pay their respects to a life ended so soon. The death of a young person is tragic. But truthfully, very few people knew Mother. They knew Tracy and they had heard of Rachel. Rachel took piano from Miss Lisa, a popular woman in town. She played church organ for the Presbyterians. Miss Lisa talked Rachel up to her women's circle at church. Many people wanted to meet the famous Rachel and had been presented with no other opportunity.

 Rachel played at the funeral. She played her favorite song--it was one Mother hated. She had played it at a recital when she was 11, and Mother left in the middle of the performance and waited in the car. She said it was conflicted- and cruel-sounding. Rachel smiled as she played. The "mourners" assumed Rachel was remembering good times with her mother. Perhaps it was "their song." But Miss Lisa wondered. She would never forget the day Mother walked out of the concert hall. She had been so offended and was angry for Rachel's sake.

Millie sang at the funeral because Rachel had asked her to. She sang Music In My Mother's House--another her mother had loathed. The preacher of the church in which Mother was baptized wasn't sure what to say about her. The night before, he had slept little trying to think of general statements about the woman. But he didn't believe a woman who had taken her life would be welcomed in heaven. And he didn't believe that she had accepted Jesus as her Lord and Savior. She never came a day to church. What generic statements are appropriate, then? He called Tracy and she didn't have much. He asked to speak to Rachel, and she reluctantly agreed. "Mother was in to photography," she said grimly. He had heard about the horrible pictures--

The preacher stuck to a short (short, short) message about how much she'd be missed and the church wish they could have known her better. There was absolutely nothing else. No one really knew her. Rachel had to have known her best...

After the burial, the Tracy steered Rachel back towards their car. Miss Lisa  asked if she could speak with Rachel first. Tracy looked at Rachel, who nodded and said, "I'll meet you guys in a bit." She then turned back to Miss Lisa's worried face. Rachel could tell Miss Lisa was questioning her decision to have this conversation.
"I know this is a hard day for you. But... I have to know. Did your mom beat you? Were you were abused. It doesn't matter now. You can't be in trouble for telling me."
"She never had to lay a hand on me until the day she died." Rachel said this rather pointedly, making deliberate eye contact with Miss Lisa. Miss Lisa knew exactly what those words meant. She was a smart woman, and Rachel was aware of this.
"I understand. But I'd like for you to clarify, which will take some guts. So I'll say the words, and I want you to nod or shake your head. Then we'll hug each other and you can go to the car with your family. Okay?" at this, Rachel nodded. "Your mom didn't hit you. You were too scared of her to do anything that would make her that upset. The day she... died, she was more out of control. Am I correct?" Rachel began to nod, then stopped herself.
"Almost." she said. "I was out of control that day. I wanted out." And then she sobbed. She couldn't stop. She didn't cry for the death of Mother. She was so much happier without her. She cried for the tears she had suppressed. For the hair she had pulled out. For the punishments she'd delivered to herself. For the fear she never expressed. It was reminiscent of the day she had snapped; but there was so much less to let go of now. It was a little easier.

And Miss Lisa was scared of the new information she'd gathered. She knew what that meant. But she would never tell anyone. Miss Lisa wanted her out too. Miss Lisa would continue to instruct Rachel free of charge. And they didn't speak of it again for a long, long time.