The entire week was ‘too dark’ for me. For one week, I was depressed with Jazz’s funeral, yet I had to deal with it. Now, I’m attending one of the saddest events of my life – Jazz’s burial.
He will be leaving and he’ll never come back. I felt crying once again.
I’ve spent hours and hours looking at myself in the mirror. I can’t seem to contain myself. I wonder how I’d compose myself in front of everyone later on.
I tried to relax. I don’t know where to get enough courage to face everything, to face everyone today – now that my strength is gone.
A few minutes later, I heard knocks on my door. When it opened, mom entered my room. She was on her black dress, somewhat similar with mine.
“Are you ready, sweetie?” mom asked.
“I’m never gonna be ready mom,” then I started crying.
She came to me and gave me a very tight hug – an assurance that she and dad will be there for me, no matter what.
“He’s in good hands now.”
“I am never gonna be the same again, mom. Now that he’s gone, what will become of me? How am I gonna deal with this?”
“Nikki, we are gonna be here for you.”
“I miss him so much. I miss those times when he adores me, when he cares for me, when he tells me how important I am to him… I’m gonna miss everything about us.”
“I know. We will miss him, too, but we know he’s just gonna be around us – watching us, guiding us, protecting us. Come on. Let’s go to the church and have him put to rest.”
I looked at mom. She smiled bitterly. I know she’s hurt too. She’s hurt because of what happened to Jazz, but she’s more hurt seeing me this way.
…to be continued
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