LIVING & GRIEVING

01. the funeral

The unfamiliar faces around the room make me feel like I didn't know my mother at all. When I think about it, maybe that's true. I didn't even get to know her for half her life. Some people here got the pleasure of knowing her before she got sick. I never got that. My mum was first diagnosed with cancer when I was eleven. Every memory before that is a blur. These people don't know the person she became after she got sick. But that's because they didn't know she was sick at all.

Due to mums wishes, we kept her cancer private. It was actually even kept private from me and my brother Connor the first time she was diagnosed. Our parents felt we were too young to know, and they thought it would never come back. But it did. This time, I was fifteen. Old enough to be told but still not old enough to know how to deal with it. Not old enough to fathom how serious it was. How it would kill her. We could never be old enough for that.

Between you and me, the summer she got sick again I told my best friends Hannah and Olivia. I felt horrendous, like I was betraying her. Keeping it a secret from everyone was a huge weight to carry though. Part of me felt like it wasn't a fair secret to keep. So many people loved my mother and they almost deserved to know. But no matter how bad it got; mum continuously refused. We didn't even tell her friends until she was in her last days and couldn't fight us on it.

Hannah and Olivia only knew the minor details. I didn't like to talk about it much. Until I had to. Once she was given only three months to live (which turned into less than a week), they hadn't left my side. They were practically living in my bedroom. Even after I told them I would be fine, they wouldn't go home, and I loved them for it.

Our next-door neighbours, the Hale family were the only other people who knew. Not exactly by choice but rather because we couldn't hide it any longer. Mum had lost her ability to walk and needed carers to look after her every day. Dad couldn't stay home forever; we couldn't afford it. She went from seeing Angela Hale basically every day, to avoiding her calls and not leaving her house for weeks. So, we couldn't blame her for marching over and demanding answers. They were best friends after all.

Her and her husband Martin were our saving grace every day after that. Their son, Quinn, even came around sometimes to keep mum company. He never spoke to me though; we actually hated each other since we were little. Part of me even hated that he got to see my family so vulnerable. But I knew mum liked him. That's why I never said anything to him about it.

Pondering on my memories with the Hale family, it was then I realised I hadn't seen Quinn all day. I hadn't noticed him at the wake in the house and he certainly didn't take a turn in carrying the coffin, like my dad had suggested. My eyes began curiously scanning the room. For the first time, I took in how many people from my school had actually shown up for me. Probably a quarter of the funeral were friendly acquaintances of mine. It was nice to know they were all there for me, but in my heart, I knew they were there for show. None of them would care to ask me about her in a week's time. Everyone will move on.

For a brief second, I made eye contact with the person I was looking for. Standing in the corner alone, while his parents took the row behind ours. His jaw was clenched and lips tight, his glaring eyes made it almost look like he'd been crying. He looked away from me, probably feeling sorry for me like everyone else here. Despite practically being next door enemies, I don't know why I still half expected him to speak to me. Maybe tell me he's sorry for my loss and he too cared about her. That would be too much for him.

It wasn't too much for much for Connor though, who had just taken the stand to read his eulogy for our mother. I closed my eyes and squeezed Hannah and Olivia's hands. While I hadn't outwardly shown how devastated and empty I was feeling, I knew seeing Connor emotional would send me away shattered. I let out a sob as soon as he started reading the beautiful words he'd prepared.