[center][h2]~The Church of Our Lady Mary, Mother of Christ~[/h2][/center]

[hr]

From what records that could be found in the old man's room, he was ninety-one years, three months, and twenty days old; and from what father had told Max, Samual Bigsley Wellington must have been eighteen when he started working at the manor. He came out of nowhere, so the story went, asking about the empty groundskeeper position; grandfather must have been crazy to hire him, but the Summersons had never been the sane type. 

It was a crisp morning, and the sky was blue and cloudless, a gentle breeze lulled through Max's coat. 

When they gathered his personal effects it became painfully obvious that Sam was a simple man, he took weekends off to go feed birds and he'd spend his salary frugally. Among the scraps of paper and personal musings, Max had discovered piles of filled in notebooks, and in one of those journals filled with repetitive days, he found a sealed letter addressed to his father. The paper was yellowed and pressed into a brittle wafer.

'[i]    Dear Master Daniel,
 I realise now that I've watched you grow up, you and the other little ones, and as such I must realise that at the same time I have grown up also. At the time of writing this, I am forty-six, and in ten years time I will be fifty-six and I do not foresee myself being anywhere else when that time comes. You will outlive me, God willing, and that means that one day you will have to deal with me when I am gone. It was kind of your father to take me in, to give me a home, but I beg of you your kindness on the day I have to meet my lord. There is in the next county a church of My Lady Mary, Mother of Christ, and it is there I wish to be laid to rest. I am a Catholic, and I wish to be buried nowhere than in the shadow of a house of my lord, if you find it convenient, Sir. It has been my honour to serve in your house, and continue to serve I will, in hopes that one day when I am old and grey your family will look after me as I did the flower beds. 
      Yours faithfully, Samual Bigsley Wellington.[/i]

The Church of Our Lady Mary, Mother of Christ, was tall and single steepled, the masonry recently whitewashed to catch the sun. It had been in the neighboring county ever since missionaries bought the land from Mormon settlers, though what was more relevant to Max was that Dad was buried there as well. The letter struck Max as something other than coincidence, before mother had clarified to him that Sam had been admitted to hospital when his was father was a young man. So Sam must have given the letter, fearing the worst, but then wasn't his time.

It was on Wednesday - under a golden sun - when Max, The Father, The Groundskeeper, and The Grave digger lowered Sam's casket into the ground. Sam weighed seventy-eight pounds, but it was the weight of almost a century that drew him to the ground. Max dared a glance around, the cemetery was empty apart from them, and mother, who watched from the gilded gates of the yard. 

"Today we mourn the loss of our brother, Samual." The lasted began, drawing back Max's attention, his hands clasped in front of him. "But today we rejoice also, for today he has returned to our Lord, God. And it will be there with God that he shall..." Max's mind began to wander as the priest went on with the service. He lost his father to cancer, cruelly and painfully taken away from him; he had been angry at God ever since. But there, huddled around Sam's Grave, he realized everyone had their time.

"...In God's house there are many rooms, and surely if anyone before us deserves a place in God's house it is Samual. Where he may rest after such a long life in devotion of God and his Kingdom." The priest ended with the Lord's Prayer, but Max stood silently as it was delivered by the three other men. But under his breath, at the end, he whispered with them.

"Forever, and ever. Amen." 

Handshakes went around, and Max thanked the Pastor for his time. When the grave digger moved for his shovel Max stopped him. He had been too distraught to fill his father's grave, but there he would not deny Sam. Max grasped the shovel and scooped dirt over the casket, soon it was out of sight, and after twenty minutes it was as if it had never been there. He returned the shovel but lingered by the head stone for a few minutes longer, his fingers pressed to the top of the cold slab in contemplation. 

Max was sad but he wasn't in grief, his grudge with the Power at be was over, he was no longer angry. Gently rubbing the top of the stone, Max let out a long sigh and looked around. He said nothing, but hoped that his company would be suffice before he let Samual rest.  

As he left, the young man took a detour to the back of the cemetery, where a headstone stood in the shade of the boundary wall. Kneeling in the grass, Max placed a palm on the side of the stone and his forehead to the top. And then wept under the golden sun. 

[hr]

The drive back had been in silence, His mother went in to bid her farewells and was now too lost in her own thoughts to say anything. Instead sitting in the passenger seat, looking out the window as she stroked the beads of her rosary. Max would take the day off, maybe a while off, from work. He felt like his mother would need him, and he needed the time himself.