[ WP ] Describe the great hero of your story only through posthumous anecdotes of friends and family .

The air in the funeral home was dense with the smell of lavender and chocolate chip cookies. Invisible whorls and eddies blew out the doorway as the panel doors opened inwards towards the visitation room, and brought a soft, sad smile to the faces of all who entered through that open portal. 
 
 “ Sarah used to make wonderful cookies, ” an elderly man with wickedly sloping eyebrows and a goatee. He looked as if he was about to pull a chain of handkerchiefs from his sleeve. “ She would use carob instead of chocolate, sometimes, if she wanted to give her dogs a treat. ” He sniffled. “ Funny, I always preferred the carob version. Less guilt after you're done, you know. ” He nodded his head in a self satisfied manner. 
 
 “ Oh, Jeb, you old liar. Your hands got caught in the cookie jar more times than I can count. She always hid the good ones in that giant cupcake above the cutlery drawer, ” an elderly woman riposted. She had half a grin on her face, and looked like she knew all of Jeb's secrets. “ She called it her bucket cake, the damned thing was big enough. ” She shook her head. “ There's another thing we'll miss about Sarah. She had the cutest little nicknames for everything in her house. The bucket cake, the food management utilities most would call utensils, hell, even the house she called Casa del Chocolatier. ” 
 
 “ And a fine chocolatier she was, ” a man of about 30 chimed in. “ I remember when I hired her. That portfolio looked like something full of pictures you'd find on facebook of ridiculously talented dessert artists, but we hired her anyway, and boy, did our sales shoot through the roof. Sorry. ” He coughed, looking ashamed of himself. “ I know it's not the right time to mention things like that. I only mean to say we'll miss her at work. Her attitude was always one to bring a smile to everyone's face. ” He sighed, observing now silently as the crowd funnelled off into the rows of seating. He headed for one of the tables with glasses and a jug of ice water on it. A middle aged man in a smart suit approached her. The chef looked up at his impressive stature, “ Oh, hello. You're her father, right? ” 
 
 Sarah's father nods, his face somber. “ I am. Or, was. ” He sighed sadly. “ I met you at Sarah's work. You know, she loved working for you, and considered you a good friend as well as a top notch boss. You're Eduard, right? ” 
 
 “ Yes sir, that's what they call me. Ed or Eduard, does n't matter to me, ” Ed replied. “ Do we know who's taking after her cats? ” Ed took a clean glass from the tray on the table and proceeded to fill it from the jug. “ Water? ” He offered the glass to Sarah's father. 
 
 Ruben, for that was Sarah's father's name, held up a hand in refusal. “ No, thank you. I'm quite full of water, already. 79 percent, you know. ” He proffered a half a giggle, but the joke fell flat. 
 
 Ed shrugged, and took a socially appropriate sip. “ Suit yourself. ” 
 
 There was a lengthy silence. The sort of silence where you both know that there's really nothing to say. 
 
 “ Ah yes, her cats, ” Ruben remembered, scratching his head as to flush the idea out his mouth. “ I believe some of her friends have offered to house the little critters temporarily, but I'm not sure if all of them have a proper home or not. ” 
 
 Ed nodded. “ I wanted to offer to let Soot, that big fat black cat, stay with me. I know she once ran into a burning building to save it. ” 
 
 Ruben shrugged, his eyes sad and unfamiliar towards Eduard. “ You'll have to talk to her... “ He sighed visibly. “... ex-boyfriend about that. I believe he's taking care of who her various possessions go to. ” 
 
 “ To whom they'll go, ” corrected Ed. 
 
 “ Pardon? ” Ruben squinted slightly at Eduard, coming out of a slight daze. “ Did you say something? ” 
 
 It's not worth a conflict, Eduard thought. “ Nothing, nevermind. Excuse me, I think I'll go and find Peter. ” With a slight nod Eduard excused himself, and went off to find Stephen, Sarah's now ex lover. 
 
 Ruben stood there in a daze. Truly, he thought, the saddest time is when a parent outlives a child. He stood at that table, watching people come and go, sitting only for the eulogy, written for an audience, and not for those who would truly miss their Sar-bear.
