The funeral

An atrocious number of people had shown up to honor her memory, people she didn’t really know and mostly people she didn’t really care about. A small group of people stood huddled in the corner and I assumed they were the ones who really knew her. None of them were crying. They didn’t look grief striken per se. They just simply stared into nothingness. I wondered if they were alright. I went to take a closer look and noticed two slightly older in the group whom I assumed to be her parents. The woman had a glazed look about her. Like she had not slept for days. And the man looked broken, like all life had been sucked out of him. And yet, they were not crying. They simply stood there while talk about her little child was being murmured all around them. Her friends also were also standing right there. Soon, they would learn how to deal with it and then move on from it. It was simple. You cannot brood forever. People die. That was the simple truth.
She had only been twenty three they told me. Such a young girl. She had had dreams. Things she had wanted to do, and yet she had one day lost all hope of doing them. One day, she had decided she didn’t want to do any of those things. She just didn’t want to live. And so her body would now be buried and whatever broken pieces of her life were left, they would be picked up and slowly forgotten over the years. I wondered if she wanted to be a mother, or if she wanted to be married, or have a house, or do gardening, or climb a mountain. All her dreams were gone with her, and there was nothing left. I wondered if she was in a better place now. A place where she could not feel any of it: the fear of death, of loss, or any sorrow, or happiness. The good and the bad were both snuffed out of her and I could not help but wonder if it was something she would have wanted.
I looked around for someone who would tell me everything about her. I burnt with a desire to know her. She was a book to me now. A completed book as her journey was over and her chapters were set. She can be remembered fondly or with spite, it did not matter. She could be forgotten even, but still it wouldn’t matter. I saw a small girl (she wouldn’t be more than 3 years old). I went and sat next to her, and she pointed at the photograph of her aunt and said “aunt”. I stared at her small hands as she pointed at the picture and did a come here movement with her hands. She was calling for her aunt. Her aunt was gone. This girl would not even remember her aunt once she is older. Then she pointed at her aunt and said “balloon” and I understood that they used to play with together.
I think that was all I needed to know about her. The fact that she was an aunt to this wonderful little child and at least today, as of this moment, she was missed by this little kid. Maybe she would be forgotten soon, or maybe never by her friends and family but what was true was that she is remembered today by this innocent creature. Whatever good or bad she did, she was loved purely by at least one being. I closed my eyes and said a small prayer for her soul and hoped she was in a better place.

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