.:Author's Note:.
I literally suck at eulogies.
Please excuse any mistakes.
***
Winston's POV:
There wasn't a single dry eye in the church as my mother's funeral progressed.
The closer the time came for me to give the eulogy, the sicker to my stomach I felt. I wasn't ready. I didn't want to let my mother go. I knew that the moment I got on the podium, the realness of it all would come crashing down, and I wouldn't survive the destruction. What was the point of having this heartfelt speech written down when I wouldn't have the voice to articulate the words?
"Hey, sweetness, do you need a moment?" Jonathan whispered softly into my ear as to not disrupt the ceremony. I glanced at him for a moment. Only then did I notice the vise grip like hold I had on his hand and the erratic beating of my heart. I nodded, which was all he needed to tug me from my seat and guide me out of the sanctuary. Once we were outside, the gut-wrenching wails I had been holding back so that I wouldn't be the center of attention poured from my lips almost painfully.
It hurt. Everything hurt; my head, my chest, my stomach. All I felt was pain.
"That's it. Cry it out, baby," my boyfriend encouraged as he wrapped his arms around me. I didn't really have to be told because once I started, I couldn't stop. The tears and slight screams of grief didn't seem like they were going to pause anytime soon. I was almost sure that everyone inside could hear me, but after hours of holding back my emotions since waking up this morning, I honestly didn't care anymore. I needed this.
Another set of arms were wrapped around me a few seconds later. Macy's familiar perfume drifted up my nose, making me shudder as I tried to at least get my breathing under control.
"No, no," she said just as quietly as Jonathan had been speaking to me, seeming to realize what I was doing. "You cry to your heart's content, sweetheart."
And I did.
We must've been outside for at least ten minutes before I felt like I couldn't weep anymore. When they realized that I was done, Macy backed away from me – although she clasped my hand in hers – and Jonathan held me out at arms' length. I smiled appreciatively – as best as I could anyway – as my boyfriend then used a soft baby rag to wipe my face. Where he had even gotten the tiny thing, I wouldn't question it. But the sight of it made a chuckle pass my lips.
"It used to be the twins' own. I made sure to pack a few before we flew out here," Jonathan grinned as he answered my unasked question. I nodded in understanding, a small smile of my own gracing my lips as I took the rag from him. "Ready to head back inside?"
Again, I nodded. After giving Macy's hand a small grateful squeeze and Jonathan a quick thank-you peck, we all headed back into the sanctuary.
As we took our seat, the pastor – and a close family friend – announced that it was time for anyone who wanted to, to share stories and favorite moments with my mother. Elliot gave me a comforting smile from his spot two seats over from me, which I returned as best as I could before focusing on my old-time neighbor who had taken the stage. The storytelling portion continued for another twenty-five minutes before it was time for closing.
My heart lodged itself in my throat when my name was called to give Mom's eulogy. Thankfully, I didn't have to stand in front of the congregation alone. Jonathan, Macy, April, Alyssa, Franny, Conrad, and Dad all stood around me as I took to the podium. Having what was left of my family supporting me at that moment gave me the confidence I needed in order to narrate a summary of our missing piece's legacy.
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