Lafe Simson Sr. was trying his best to be comforting. "There ain’t no sense in you carrying on that way boy. She’s happier with the Lord. She's happier with the Lord." His father had kept repeating that over and over ever since the doctor had come out and said, "She’s gone." Lafe Senior took little Lafe’s hand and led him into the room. His mother lay very still, sleeping, he knew. But why was his father acting like he was? "Let me wake her up, Daddy." "She won't ever wake up, Lafe. She’s happier where she is. If you were there, you wouldn't want to wake up either." Lafe was petrified. She would wake up, it might be a long time, but she would wake up. He told his father so. His father knelt beside him, gently, catching Lafe totally unprepared. Lafe Senior grasped the boy by the shoulder, shook him hard, and said loudly, "She's dead, boy, dead. That’s dead." And he pointed to his mother. Lafe started crying, not because his mother was dead but because of what his father had done. Through his tears he said, "She's not. Nobody ever dies." His father shook him and shook him. Lafe was afraid he was going to hit him. He didn’t and Lafe’s tears outlasted the man’s anger. His tears stopped only when he came to believe he was crying over his mother's death. His father was right. She was happier where she was.
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