Pins and Needles

Chapter 15

The service was nice, a little boring, but nice. It didn't take long and I thankfully didn't have to make a speech unlike my mother. We were now moving onto the burial portion, so all the guests made their way over to the graveyard. Dad earned a cute little spot in the middle of the site with Earnest Donwell and Carolina Freid Saint Connery on either side. His headstone was missing and instead a small placard held its place. I thought that since his death and the ceremony were so sudden, it hadn't arrived yet.

The sun battered down on my skin, making me sweat in my heat absorbing dress. I looked up and shaded my eyes from the unnecessarily bright star. This was nothing like the movies. Usually, it was all gloomy and rainy during funerals, but not for us. No, I guess mother nature wanted Thanksgiving to be lovely, thus living up to the name; the wonderful weather was one more thing to be grateful for.

I scanned the area, spotting people that I recognized and people that I didn't recognize. Most who were there right then were close friends of Dad or relatives. Those who didn't fit into those two categories had left much earlier. That included Maeve. She had arrived a little before starting time, so I barely got to chat with her. Although, I'm not sure I would have wanted to because the look she was giving me replicated all the others around me. Sympathy. Those stupid, empty "I'm sorry" gazes that were shooting through me constantly. I didn't know why everyone directed their pity at me, Mom was the real hot mess. Nevertheless, I learned to block them out because if I hadn't, I probably would've punched that frown right off their faces.

We gathered around to hole and each maintained our distance from the casket to be sure not to mess up the equipment. The priest made sure we were all stable and ready before beginning his spiel.

"Jack was a gracious person who will be dearly missed by the people gathered here today. He was taken from our lives much too soon; may his soul join God in the heavens above," he stated and blessed himself along with a couple others in the circle. "He was a valiant soldier, a soldier that fought and served his country honorably. No one could have foreseen that his end would be met by a tank, an American tank at that."

I sputtered out a laugh before I could even register what I had done. Oh shit.

An array of disapproving whispers traveled amongst the group, a few of those murmurs paired with a horrified expression. Mom turned to me with the same air about her; she was shocked and furious. I put my head down and mumbled a quick apology, cursing out the priest in my head for wording it that way. He really ran head first through that, didn't he. No hesitation, yeesh.

The priest coughed and continued with his declaration, "Well... if anyone has anything with them that they would like to give Jack in remembrance of him, they may do so now."

My mother stepped up to the plate first, placing a single rose on the casket whilst wiping away a fallen tear. My grandfather rubbed her back while Grandma laid down a small teddy bear next to the flower.

"He always loved his Bear Bear," she explained.

A few others stepped up, placing down their individual souvenirs that reminded them of Dad. Once everyone had taken their turn, they looked at me expectantly. I panicked, I hadn't brought anything. I remember my mom mentioning it, but I never got around to picking something out. I was running out of time, so I just bowed my head and listened to the gaggle of exasperated gasps circulate. I flushed, my face turning beet red as I thought of the best item I could have brought. My dad got me a necklace when I was younger and I worshiped it, but now it didn't even fit properly. It would have been perfect. I would have been able to avoid all these judgy glares. I was so stupid.

Later on, after the priest had finished his speech, a few workers brought baskets of petals and poured them all over the grave. The casket was then lowered into the hole, a few stary sobs standing out from the crowd. Once the box had hit the ground, we sat there for a moment in silence, then individually broke off into our respective groups. My father's brothers approached my mother and I and took turns comforting my mom with words like "stay strong" or  "it'll be okay". Uncle Patrick was the first to look at me and repeat the same actions he had just performed with Mom. Uncle Tim did the same, but mixed up a few of the words.