Strawberry Ice Cream

Day Three Hundred and Eighty One

Your funeral was exactly how you'd have wanted it.

Oh, darling, it was fantastic. We didn't wear black, but instead we wore your favorite color of green. There was dancing and laughing, and although sobs and tears were mixed in with the merriment, happiness was the main emotion. We weren't mourning you, we were celebrating you, just as you'd have wanted it.

There were birds at your wedding, flying around and chirping at people. They were beautiful, completely white and like ballerinas in the sky. I wondered if you sent them just for us, I wondered if you asked God if you could borrow some birds for the day.

Your sister spoke at the funeral, telling the story of how you broke your leg. There were tears swimming gently behind her eyelashes as she told the story, every once in a while one would drip down her cheek. Despite this a smile danced on her face, and when I asked her later why she wore it she responded saying that though you weren't there that day, she knew you were watching somewhere and laughing. That made her happy.

I spoke as well, but I'm sorry to say I didn't do as well as your sister. My words were mumbled and sobs escaped between sentences, and though I managed not to cry, I was barely comprehendible. I wish I could say that my speech was beautiful and moving, but it was nothing more than recollection of how we met.

Your girlfriend didn't speak, she didn't even turn up. I called her later and asked why and she told me it was because she couldn't handle it. She didn't like funerals as it was, but she despised funerals of loved ones. I still don't know whether her excuse makes sense or not, but I know that she loved you very much. You guys were perfect for eachother, and I realized it then.

Your funeral was almost like a closing, almost like we were finally giving up the possibility that you were alive. Though I still believed we might find you some day, happy and married, I knew that your family needed an answer as to what had happened to you. They couldn't live wondering where you were, so your funeral was to give them relief. They had accepted your death, and they could continue on.

I had known you for three hundred and sixty-four days, not even a year. But on day three hundred and eighty-one, we put an empty casket in the ground and pretended it was you.