Buddie: Partners in Fire

Chapter 69

Scene: The Funeral Service, Midday

Inside the church, Buck and Eddie took their seats in the front row, opposite Eddie’s parents. The space reserved for close family felt suffocating in its proximity to the grief that hung heavy in the air. The church was vast, with high ceilings and stained-glass windows casting muted colors onto the stone floors. The scent of candles and flowers mixed in the air, a poignant reminder of the life they were here to honor. Eddie sat stiffly beside Buck, his jaw clenched as the service began, every muscle in his body tense with the effort it took to keep his emotions in check.

The priest spoke softly, his voice a gentle cadence that filled the quiet space. He offered words of solace, talking about Abuela’s long, meaningful life, the love she had for her family, and the deep connections she made in the community. Eddie listened, but the priest’s words felt distant, like they were echoing from somewhere far away. The grief inside him was too raw, too immediate.

Memories of his Abuela surged forward unbidden—her smile as she handed him a fresh tamale, the way she would hum softly as she cooked, the way her arms wrapped around him in a warm, comforting hug whenever he came home. She had always been there, a constant in his life, a pillar of strength and love.

The lump in Eddie’s throat grew harder to swallow. But even as the tears threatened to spill over, he held them back, his face calm and composed. He couldn’t let himself break down. Not yet.

When it was time for Eddie to speak, the priest offered him a kind nod, motioning him to the front. Eddie stood slowly, his legs feeling like lead as he made his way to the podium. His heart pounded in his chest, each step toward the front feeling heavier than the last. He glanced back at Buck briefly, seeking reassurance, and Buck gave him a small, supportive nod. That was all he needed. Drawing in a steadying breath, Eddie faced the congregation, his hands gripping the edges of the podium.

He began to speak, his voice steady but thick with emotion, like he was balancing on the edge of a wave about to crash.

Eddie: “My Abuela… she was the heart of this family. The glue that held us all together. No matter how far we drifted, no matter how much time had passed, she always found a way to bring us back. To her, family was everything. And it didn’t matter if you were blood or not—if she loved you, you were family.”

Eddie paused, swallowing hard as a rush of memories flooded him. He could see her clearly in his mind, sitting in her garden, the sun shining on her face as she tended to her flowers. He could hear her voice, soft and comforting, telling him stories about when she was young, passing on wisdom without even trying.

Eddie: “She had this way of making everyone around her feel important, like you mattered just by being there. Even when she wasn’t saying anything, her presence spoke volumes. She was love in action. She didn’t need grand gestures or elaborate words to show it. It was in the way she made sure everyone had a full plate at dinner, in the way she always remembered to ask how your day was, even if she was tired.”

His voice wavered, the weight of everything catching up to him. He cleared his throat, taking a deep breath before continuing.

Eddie: “Abuela was there for me… through everything. When I was scared, when I didn’t know where to turn, she was always the one I could count on. When I enlisted, when I came back broken from everything I’d seen, she didn’t ask for explanations. She just... she just held me. No questions, no judgment, just love. She made me feel like I could always come back home, no matter how far I’d gone.”

He paused again, this time longer, his eyes flickering toward the casket at the front of the church. His Abuela’s face flashed in his mind, and his heart squeezed painfully. The silence in the room felt thick, heavy, but Eddie pushed through, knowing he needed to say these words, knowing he needed to honor her.

Eddie: “Even when things got hard between me and my parents... when I felt like I didn’t belong, she was my anchor. She made me feel like I was still part of something bigger. And when I became a father, when I had Christopher... Abuela was the one who reminded me that I wasn’t alone. That no matter how hard it got, she’d be there.”

His voice cracked, the first sign of the emotions he had been fighting to contain. He blinked quickly, trying to keep the tears at bay, but his vision blurred as he continued.

Eddie: “She loved Christopher... oh, man, she loved him so much. I’d see her with him, and it was like... everything just clicked into place. I could see her pouring all the love she’d ever given me into him. And he adored her. She had that magic, you know? That kind of love that spanned generations.”

Eddie paused, his eyes dropping to the floor as he gathered himself. The memories, the loss—it was all so much. His chest ached, his heart heavy with grief. He looked up at the congregation, at the faces of his family, all sharing this same pain. And then he spoke, his voice thick with emotion.

Eddie: “I hope... I hope she knew how much I loved her. How much we all loved her. I hope she knew that everything she did for me... for all of us... it mattered. It shaped us into who we are.”

His throat tightened again, and this time, he couldn’t stop the tears from pooling in his eyes. He looked down at his hands, gripping the podium for strength, before he finished, his voice barely above a whisper.

Eddie: “I’ll miss her every day. But I know she’s still with us. In every meal we cook, every story we tell, every hug we give. She’s still here. In all of us. Te amo abuela.”

Eddie stepped back from the podium, his breath shaky, his emotions finally spilling over as he blinked back tears. He gave a small, tight nod to the priest and made his way back to his seat, his legs feeling like they could give out at any moment.

As soon as Eddie sat down, Buck was there, quietly, discreetly wrapping an arm around him. Eddie leaned into him, his head dropping to Buck’s shoulder as he tried to pull himself together. Buck didn’t say anything—he didn’t need to. He just held Eddie close, offering silent comfort as Eddie’s breath hitched, the weight of his grief settling deep in his chest.

Buck rubbed soothing circles on Eddie’s back, a quiet, constant reassurance that he wasn’t alone in this. Not now. Not ever. Eddie closed his eyes, letting himself lean into that comfort, grateful for Buck’s presence beside him, for the strength Buck always seemed to have when Eddie needed it most.

Together, they sat in the quiet of the church, surrounded by family, by memories, and by loss. And in that moment, Eddie knew that while the pain would always be there, he didn’t have to carry it alone.