I Don't Mix Business with Pleasure

𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓮𝓻 𝓣𝓱𝓲𝓻𝓽𝓮𝓮𝓷

                                     𝓕𝓵𝓸𝓻𝓮𝓷𝓬𝓮

Today is the day. I've been sitting here for the last twenty minutes re-doing my makeup for the fifth time because I can't stop crying. In a fit of frustration, I roughly clean all of my makeup off with a wipe, smacking my fist down on my vanity. My reflection looking back at me is terrifying. I don't look like myself. I don't feel like myself.

"Honey- what's going on in here?" my mom asks, swinging my door open.

"I'm losing it- I'm sorry, mom."

"Baby, I don't expect you to put on some fake show for me." she kneels down on the floor, placing her hand on my leg. "I'm upset too. I can barely keep myself together. I don't know how I will move forward without him." she tightly purses her lips together. I can see tears welling in her eyes as she tried to keep it together.

"I know, mom. I don't know how I will either." I sob. "You don't have to put up a facade for me either. Let yourself grieve."

"I can't wrap my head around it, Mom. I'm in denial."

"I am too, honey. We will get through this together as a family, all of us."

"I know we will." I let out a big sigh.

Truthfully, I don't know if we will. I can't just tell my mom that. I don't think she knows how hard this is going to be. If I have to lie to keep her happy, so be it. I will do just that.

"You ready to go? We don't want to be late." my mom asks, grabbing my chair to give herself leverage to stand up. She's shaking.

"Ready as I'll ever be," I say, getting up and grabbing my phone.

There's a text from Landon letting me know that if at any point I need him today, I can call him. Hudson and a few of my friends also texted me telling me the same thing. I don't have the energy to respond to any of them.

••••••••••

On our way to the funeral, my mom decided to break the news that were heading straight to the cemetery. I guess my dad always said he didn't want a visitation. She's respecting his wishes for that, along with a closed casket. The relief I felt when those words came out of her mouth. The quicker this is over with, the better. I wish there was a way I could have avoided this entire thing altogether, but I would have regretted it for the rest of my life.

Pulling into the cemetery, I see a bunch of my cousins, aunts, uncles, grandparents, my dad's work friends, and anyone and everyone who has ever known him is here. So many of these people, especially my grandparents have tried contacting me. I never got to meet my dad's parents. They passed away long before I was even born. Coincidentally in an accident as well. I've sadly avoided everyone's attempts to get a hold of me. I can't face everyone.

I keep my head held low, making sure I don't make eye contact with anyone. Everything is talking in a whisper which seems to stop as we all walk by. Thankfully nobody says much. I think they can tell not to, given our body language. I feel a set of arms wrap around me from behind. It's my grandmother, I know her touch. I turn around and let her embrace me. She's sobbing as my brothers join in on the hug.

"I tried to call you." My grandma whispers into my ear.

"I know. I'm sorry, gram. I haven't handled this well."

"That's okay sweetie. That's okay." She says in her adorable Italian accent while rubbing my arm.

"I can't talk to everyone, gram."

"Let's go sit. You're not obligated to talk to anyone, you know? This is for your father. Everyone understands how tough this is for you. Your gram has got you." She hooks her arm with mine and we go and sit under a tent set up. My dad's casket is hovering over a six-foot hole, ready to be lowered.