The Snow had been turned into gray slush from all of the foot traffic that had turned it from the beautiful heap of white to the cold slurry that was seeping into the dark dress shoes of everyone who stood outside the quaint church. The cold wind whipped and nipped at any and all exposed skin of the mourners. The dark steel sky above them threatened to spill another dusting of snow that would shroud them. The inside of the church was no better. The lights were dimmed low to nothing more than a strong candle. The wind crept in through the gaps in the doors, windows and vents fighting to cool off the warm building with all of its might. However, this on going battle went unnoticed as those who were safe inside from the elements rushed to complete the finishing touches before the service.
The ends of the pews were lined with numerous bouquets of flowers, each with their own small sympathy card that declared who had sent the flowers with a small note wishing the family well in their hard time. Around the room, family members erected countless poster boards filled to the brink with pictures, wiping away tears as they stared into the still shots of memories that they had been replaying in their minds since they had heard of James' untimely death nearly a week ago. However, no one seemed to be as stricken by James' sudden departure from life than his younger sister Avalon.
Avalon sighed and struggled to keep herself composed as she helped her father with the last stand near the door that would hold most of the pictures of her and her older brother as they grew up. It was so hard to believe that the vivacious young man that was smiling up at her was the same young man that was lying less than half a foot ball field away in a blue and white casket that her parents had picked out. Biting her lip, Avalon looked away from the board and gave the coffin a quick glance before adverting her eyes to the plush red carpet under her black flats. There was no possible way she was going to be able to do this. How could she be the first to speak, how could she be the individual who told her fellow mourners the type of person her brother really was instead of the one they thought he was if she could not even look at his picture let alone his casket? She had been struggling with that since she had volunteered when her and her parents sat down to to make the arrangements. She just hoped that it would be easier to do when the time came to actually give her final tribute to her dearly beloved.
The wind was cold and biting as it funneled into the warm house of worship as fellow mourners filed passed Avalon, grasping her warm hand with frozen fingers, giving her glances of sympathy as they moved passed her, their eyes scanning the photo boards as they signed the guest book that had been provided by the mortuary as part of the deal her parents had worked out with the funeral director. Every face that passed by her eyes and every hand that grasped hers had some way shape or form been a part of her brother's life. She had seen all of these individuals for as long as she could remember, thought the last time she had seen their faces they had been happier, their eyes aglow with life and happiness just like the still shots that stood on either side of her.
Honestly, Avalon had no idea what made her more depressed, what made her chest ache more than it already had. Maybe it was the fact that this was the last time she could see her beloved brother other than in her dreams or maybe it was the fact all these people felt the same way she did. But whatever it was, she had no clear idea. There were no words that could be spoken that could take away the pain that ripped through their bodies and penetrated their souls.
Slowly the space filled up as friends and family filled the pews, strangers sitting snugly side by side as if they were friends in an over crowded school bus on there way to their next adventure. As the doors were shut, the deafening silence was all but obvious. The last few mourners filed by the open casket, wailing in grief just like her mother had when she had found out that James was in fact dead. Her Grandmother stood over him, her hoarse voice muttering “No, no, not my precious grandbaby” as she clutched onto her frail husband for support as the shuffled over to the vacant spot in the first row. It had to be an unimaginable pang to be burying your grand child instead of your grand child burying you.
“Come on honey” Avalon heard her father whisper into her ear as he placed a comforting hand on her back and he urged her forward. The pain and overwhelming sadness she had been fighting down since she had set foot in the place of worship hours before was finally skyrocketing towards the middle of her chest at warp speed, and frankly there was nothing she could do about it. The isle that lad to her seat seemed to stretch on for miles as she placed on foot in front of the other. Avalon could feel every set of eyes on her as she shuffled down the isle, it was something that even her father could not protect her from.
It was a close fit as Avalon made her self as small as possible just to make sure her dad could sit in the same row. Soft sobs echoed through the room as the pastor made his way to the podium. His face solemn and pale with a pale blush across his face from where the wind has nipped at his chubby cheeks.
“Friends, family, we are gathered here this cold morning to not only mourn the loss of a loved one, but to celebrate their life, and the memorable times you shared.” His compassionate eyes falling upon the crowd, lingering a moment longer on her parents. “The loss of a loved one, at any time is painful, but when that loved one has just began their journey through this vast and wonderful world, the pain intensifies to a point that we never believed we could feel.”
“We must take this pain as a reminder of our affection for the one that we have lost as a sign that they are consoling us, reminding us that while their physical body no longer walks this earth with us, we have never truly lost them because they will continue to live on in our hearts and in our minds. Today we begin that process as we say our last goodbyes to James Michel Clark, a kind vivacious individual who will truly be missed by those whose lives he had touched with his charming smile and warm eyes could uplift anyone, even in there darkest days.”
Avalon felt the stinging sensation behind her eyes as the image of James' face materialized in her mind, the animated one that gave her that crooked smile when he was up to something, not the one that her grandmother had sobbed over feet from her. That body was not her brother, her brother never looked like that. She hastily wiped her eyes as the pastor began to read the obituary that had been posted in the news paper.
