These days I seem to think a lot about the things that I forgot to do
Nico - "These Days (Daisy O'Dell remix)"
Hank's wake was, by all measures, a failure.
His ex-wife was there. She drank too much and cried bitter tears. Their son was all grown up, a business management consultant. He arrived late, much too late, with his freckled wife and freckled twin girls in tow. He gave his mother a peck on the cheek without looking her in the eyes, and excused himself several times to call an important client who also happened to be his girlfriend.
Hank's best friend was in the hospital. He had suffered a concussion the night before, but managed to get a keg delivered to the funeral home. Hank's ex-wife muttered something about it being inappropriate but wound up drinking nearly half of it.
Hank's older sister was stuck at home with her colicy newborn baby, but her husband showed up. His toupee made him sweat heavily, and as he leaned over the casket, a few drops dribbled down onto Hank's best suit.
Hank's former boss also made an appearance. He complained loudly about the finger sandwiches and left promptly.
When everyone else was gone, Hank's widow, to whom he was married less than five years, called a cab for her late husband's drunk ex-wife. Then she went home, ate some pecan pie (Hank's favorite), and scrubbed the house from top to bottom. She climbed into bed at 5 AM, just as dawn began to break. Thank god for her, Hank had said frequently. Thank god for her.