Open Part 3

Part 3 ~ The Funeral

I drove with my dad and my friends followed behind. I had a plan in place. The entire day my friends would provide a protective ring around me shielding me from people who wanted to talk to me, ask me how I was, and tell me how sorry they were.
My dad and I went in to the funeral home and he asked me to please look at my brother. I didn’t want to, but at this moment I knew he needed me to go with him. He needed it and he needed me to be there for him and I knew I had to. We went in privately before anyone else and as I approached I just wanted to run away. The image will forever be with me and it took my breath away. He was laying there so still, cold and artificial. They had his hair all wrong and he was holding a rosary. It was so fake. So I stood there with my dad and stayed strong. I answered his questions just the way he needed to hear them. Yes, it looks like he is sleeping, yes they did a good job, yes this sucks. We were standing there when my uncle Bob came in and joined us. I almost broke down right then because my uncle Bob looked at Frank and just shook his head and said “this is a mistake, it’s just not right.” For some reason it just hit me.
When we allowed everyone else to come in I totally abandoned my dad. I feel so bad looking back on it but I couldn’t stand there and do some shitty meet and greet. As planned I headed to the back of the room to a couch and had all my friends form a barrier and they did their job. We made jokes, tried to laugh and forget why we were actually there.
FInally after what seemed like an endless line of people we went home.
The next day we went back for a small service at the funeral home before we headed to the church for the proper catholic service.
We were sitting there in the funeral home and my mom sat down and asked me how much insurance money my dad was getting. I was in disbelief and I don’t even think I answered the question. I felt outside of my body and outside of my whole damn life.
We went to the church and sat in the front row. I have no idea what the priest was talking about, it felt so impersonal. This guy didn’t know my brother and here he was blabbering on. I just didn’t buy it. It didn’t bring me comfort it just felt like we were letting everyone in on our personal business. When the service was over we drove over to the cemetery in our long sad line of cars. We walked over to the spot and there was just a gaping hole starring us in the face just waiting to swallow up my brother who would never be seen again. I sat next to my dad and listened to some more static, my eyes were glazed over and I couldn’t even hear anything anymore. When it was over we had a lunch at a local hall. We were all sitting around eating when my friend Jackie, who was in a mini skirt, got up to talk to my dad. On her way back her legs slipped out from under her and she went down. She went down hard and make a huge ruckus, this made me really laugh and the worst day of my life.
After that day the only way I can describe the way I felt was open, raw, and wounded. It seemed like everyone could just see right through me and they all knew I was broken.