#every thing about his death including Luca's lack of moodlets was weird

[storiesbyjes2g]

3.146 And so it begins

Chi Chi told us so many stories about Karmine as a baby, I thought I would never make it to bed. I hoped I didn't look crazy while I used every muscle in my body to keep my eyes open. If I was tired because of age, this adult stage and I were not going to get along. Around midnight, she finally left, freeing me to flee to my bed. I was cooked and didn't even remember changing my clothes. What I did remember was closing my eyes and being awakened abruptly minutes later by my phone. It didn't occur to me that it was too late for anyone to be calling because my brain was definitely still asleep. But I answered on autopilot. It was Mama. She said Dad had passed away and I should call her later to discuss funeral arrangements. I heard what she said, but I was too tired to really understand, so I said okay and went back to sleep, crashing harder than I ever had before.

I woke up feeling restless and sat on the edge of the bed, gripping my head in my hands, trying to make sense of it all, but I couldn't pinpoint what was troubling me. A sense of unease overwhelmed me because I had a nagging feeling that some unfinished business weighed heavily on me, but couldn't recall the details. I sat there, combing over my thoughts until it came to me. My dad was gone. I waited for something to happen, expecting a deluge of tears, a flurry of anger, a vast emptiness...something. But I felt nothing. How? Was this...peace? After all, we had a great, fulfilling relationship. I got to say goodbye. Was there really anything to be sad about?

Desiree called for me, so I shook myself out of my thoughts and made a bottle.

"Hey, sweetie. Do you remember granddad? He gave you your eyes. He taught me everything I know. He, uhhh...he's gone now, so he won't come see you anymore. It's okay if you're sad. Mommy and daddy are here for you."

I knew she had no idea what I said, but it just came out. Maybe it was my own inner dialogue, trying to convince me it was acceptable to display my emotions. Still, I felt nothing. After she was satisfied, I showered and waited for Sophia to wake up.

She giggled in her sleep a lot. I always wondered what she dreamt about and wished my sleep was as entertaining as hers. I loved her playful spirit. She might have tiny gray hairs sprouting here and there, and little lines creasing her face that weren't there before, but she was every bit as youthful and gorgeous as she was the first time I saw her. When she finally opened her eyes, she asked if I had been watching her, and I admitted to it.

"Like what you see?" she asked.

"I love what I see."

"Good. What's going on?"

"I've been waiting to tell you something."

"What is it?" she asked, her voice still heavy with sleep. She slid from under the blanket and sat next to me with worry and concern written on her face. "Why didn't you wake me?"

"You need your rest."

"I'm fine, Luca. What's going on?"

"It's Dad. He's gone."

Her eyes welled up. At least one of us could cry for him.

"So soon?" As the news settled within her, her shoulders slumped, burdened by our seemingly sudden loss. "Oh, Luca. I'm so sorry."

She flew to me, squeezing even tighter than she did the other night, thinking I needed comfort, but she needed it too.

"I need to go to Mama's house for a few hours, but I'll be back."

"Of course. Take all the time you need."

Lately, it seemed all I did was leave Sophia and Desiree at home. I didn't like it, but that was daily life for many parents. Most men had jobs outside the home they went to every day and only saw their families at night. It was normal, but I still felt like I was abandoning them. I just wanted to be there with them, but life kept pulling me away.

I ended up at Dad's house on my way to Newcrest. I couldn't explain how I ended up there if someone asked me to explain it with a SimRay at my head, but there I was, standing on the sidewalk, gazing up at this place that used to be my home. It called to me, I guess, so I went inside and looked around. He didn't have much, like he said, but I was surrounded by so many good memories.

It occurred to me that I should look for his urn while I was there, but I never found it. I must have walked around that house three times searching for it, but it was nowhere to be found. How could we have a funeral with no urn? And if it wasn't there, where in the world was it? How would I be able to find it without knowing where he died? Defeat set in, but I refused to give up and hoped Mama could help me.

She met me at the door and threw her arms around me.

"I'm sorry for your loss, buddy. Can I do anything for you?"

"I'm oddly fine. Is that weird? I don't know if I'm at peace or I'm gonna fall apart later."

"It's not weird at all. One thing I learned from him and Mommy is sims grieve in different ways. Maybe yours isn't a loud, sobby grief. Maybe it's quiet and reflective."

"I went by the house. There wasn't an urn. How can we have the funeral without it, Mama?"

She averted her eyes.

"Ummm... You didn't find it because... Well...okay, he was here last night."

"He was...here?"

My second question was going to be what was he doing there in a suspicious tone, but he could have been hanging out with Alessia or helping with the babies. But he never once touched those babies, and he and Alessia didn't have that kind of relationship. And given how weird Mama acted, and how she'd been looking at him lately, and how much he'd been talking about her, my very educated guess was that neither Less nor the babies had anything to do with his late-night visit, and I didn't want to know anymore. Besides, now it made more sense why she was the one who called me.

"So, you have it then?" I asked.

"Yes."

"Okay."

"...That's it?"

"It's none of my business, Mama."

It was all hands on deck later when the taxing trio were unhappy all at once. Less was outside swimming, so I went and got her so we would be evenly matched. Arvin seemed to be the easiest one to care for. He had a rather sunny disposition, only crying when he needed something vs. his brother who cried for just about any reason. He seemed to be really sensitive but didn't enjoy being held for long. I knew he was going to be a handful. Breanna was rather calm, but man did she love to eat. I tried to put her down several times after feeding her, but she kept crying for more.

Alessia and I must have been alike in our grief, because she seemed relatively okay too, not that I expected her to be all broken up. She loved our dad in her own way, but their relationship wasn't like ours. When Mama passes, it might be a different story.