The Urn part 1, February 28 2025

THE URN

The Urn
watercolor by Elaine Troisi

"Daddy, don't... please don't go!" Marin's voice cracked as she watched the heart monitor's erratic beeps slow to a flatline. The blue screen seemed to scream at her: "Sorry, your daddy is dead!"

She collapsed over her father's chest, her body shaking with sobs. "No! I still need you, Daddy!" she wailed, her heart shattered. "Daddy, come back!" she pleaded, her voice hoarse from crying.

The nurse's gentle touch on her shoulder brought Marin back to the hospital room. "Your father was a very special, caring and mkind. A great philanthropist ," the nurse said, her voice sincere. "I'm glad I was here to help him in his final days. I am so sorry for your loss." Tears glistened on her cheek as she offered Marin a comforting hug. "Take another minute or two, but then we need to allow the medical team do their work."

In the days that followed, the Max Soneberg estate became a revolving door of mourners. Colleagues, friends, and strangers streamed in to offer condolences, but Marin felt numb, frozen in grief. Her father's death played on repeat in her mind, a painful video she couldn't escape.

The funeral was a blur. Marin vaguely recalled climbing the steps to the bema, scanning the sea of faces before her. Reporters and camera crews mingled with the mourners, their presence a jarring reminder of her father's public life.

Max’s housekeeper, Rachel, consoled Marin over the next few days as she wandered the house, avoiding her father’s office. She slept a lot, too much really.

Rachel loved Marin as if she were her own. She’d practically raised her since her mother died. She was just 5 then. Now all she could do was hold her when she cried. “ Marin, it’s okay. Let it all out. The time for healing will take it’s turn soon.”

all that Rachel can do now is offer comfort and love
watercolor be Elaine Troisi

Marin struggled to regain her emotional equilibrium. Some things, however, demanded her attention.

Their attorney and close friend, Bill Langley, had called several times, but Marin hadn’t taken his calls, until now. It was time.

They arranged to meet in her father’s office. Marin already knew her father’s wishes, as they had discussed them many times in Max’s final years. Still, the formality needed to be addressed.

Bill Langley sat across from her in her father's desk chair. Tears rose, but Marin held the dam back. Soon enough it would be her chair.

“Well,” Bill broke the silence, “your father and I were friends since our college years, as you well know.” His voice quavered with emotion. “There is little I don’t know about him, but there is something he never told you.”

Bill reveals an addition to the will
watercolor by Elaine Troisi

Marin stirred in her seat. Bill raised his hand. “ But wait, dear. I’ll get to that in a minute.”

Max, an only child had married an only child… and together they had one child. So Marin, too, was an only. She was the sole inheritor of Max’s estate. This was no surprise. She would continue to manage his charitable foundation, home, and other obligations, leaving her little time for friends and a social life Everything.m was up to her now.

At 27, she was an heiress and one of the richest women in the country.

Bill continued. “Here’s the part you don’t know, Marin,” he paused to gauge her expression, “your father has another home. In Paris.France.”

Marin interrupted, “But we always told one another everything. Not just business things but personal things. He was my best friend. I mean … I guess … well, he conducted a lot of business in Paris, so maybe it’s not surprising.” she stopped a moment, pondering the whys and wherefores.

“There’s a bit more, Marin,” Bill continued.

Marin looked puzzled. “Daddy bought a house in Paris and never told me for some reason. And now that property is mine, too. Okay. Got it.”

‘And you must go there in the next week. Everything was pre-arranged by Max.”

“What on earth are you talking about, Uncle Bill?, she stammered. “I have too much to do here.” She felt overwhelmed.

“Max actually spelled it out in the will, Marin. Perhaps he wanted you to take some time for yourself. You work too hard, Marin! Besides, the change will be good for you.” He was at a loss for words to explain something even he didn’t understand himself.

“But why would he do this without talking to me first? It’s not like him. What’s going on here?” She sat down heavily.

“I wish I knew, but I don’t!” Now it was his turn to sit down.

“So my father bought a house in Paris that I don’t know about. Check. I’m supposed to go there right away. Check. You don’t know the reason, even though you were my father’s best friend and attorney. Check. Anything else?” Marin was all business woman now, but she spoke with more than a trace of sarcasm.

“Well, yes, there is one more … oddity … I guess you’d call it.” He struggled for the right words.

“So there’s more?”

Bill faltered. “ He wants you to return with the urn.”

“The urn.m! What urn? We buried him, Uncle Bill. We don’t have his ashes.” Marin’s fingers tapped furiously on the desk in a fugue of the bewildered.