#this very thing is ultimately why i decided not to pursue mortuary studies :/

[elderberries-and-honey]

After Lawrence joined The O' Doyles in his office, they gave him the details about their being there. It seemed their youngest and only daughter, May, had been sick for sometime now, and her body already frail, couldn't withstand the bitter frost winter had brought.

Normally, Lawrence took the time to practise keeping his composure in the mirror before meeting with families, but in this particular instance, he hadn't the time. And the more he listened, the more he'd wished he'd had.

Up until that moment, Lawrence and Winifred had never worked with a child before - May O'Doyle being the first. Lawrence wanted to remain professional, and hoped the elder couple didn't notice his struggling to do so.

As they began to discuss the financial piece of things, Lawrence felt terribly uncomfortable. After all, this was a child for Christ's sake!

While reluctant to do so, they came to an agreement on pricing; Mr. O'Doyle noting he'd spare no expense for his dearly departed daughter. Just as they were about to finalise their plans, Mrs. O'Doyle burst into tears.

"Oh, I can't do it! I can't bury our daughter! I won't!" Mrs. O'Dolye, who up until that moment had remained silent, cried as she rose from her seat.

Both men sat motionless in their seats for a moment, too stunned to speak as Mrs. O'Doyle rose from her chair. Neither of them knew what to do, or what to say, and watched in blinking horror as tears flowed freely down her cheeks.

Mr. O'Doyle apologised for his wife's outburst, seeming more embarrassed than heartbroken, truth be told. To which Lawrence reminded him there was no need, and promised to come retrieve little May as soon as the snow let up.

With nothing else to do, Mr. O'Doyle headed out into the cold to find his grieving wife, and left Lawrence to do the part he was dreading the most - telling his wife.