Page 5

Monday morning I get to work and start calculating how soon I can call the chapel.  I try to find their hours on their website with no luck.  I call to see if I get a recording that will tell, I get a live answering service. 


"Oh," I say, "I didn't realize that anyone would be there.  I was just trying to find out their hours."


"They come in at 8," she said.


That means 11 AM.  I fidget, watch the clock, try to focus.  At 11:20 I put the phone in the middle of my desk and call.


I introduce myself.  I state that I was looking up someone I knew a long time ago, and only found a couple of sentences stating that he had died and when.  She asks for his name.  "Sam," I reply.  She sounds surprised when she repeats his last name.  "Yes," I say.  "That item I found stated he died in early June 2010."


"I'll have to find his file," she states.  My heart sinks.  So it is true. "I'll see what information we can give out.  Can I call you back?"


I keep the phone in the middle of my desk.  I don't attend a staff holiday lunch, because I forgot to give her my cell number instead.  Finally, the phone rings. 


"He didn't have a public service," she states.  "He didn't?" I ask. I start to get the feeling that something is wrong. "No. It was just a simple cremation, then he was released to him mom.  She didn't want a public service or anything."


"Ok." I say.  I can't say anything else.  The tears are starting.  "Thank you."


And I realize that in order to find out what has happened to Uncle Sam, I am going to have to respond to my sister.