The crisp winter air whipped past me, causing my cheeks to sting like I've been slapped
across the face. The wait for the sun's warmth was endless. It seemed as if the sun didn't want to
come out of its curtain of dark clouds. The sky was an eerie gray, matching my mood.
"Kiera, it's time to go in," my father told me as my mother wiped a stray tear from my eye. I’m
surprised I have any left, I thought to myself. I could feel my mother tense up as my grip on her
arm grew tighter.
The doors to the funeral parlor flew open and I was instantly greeted with an
overwhelming amount of familiar faces. As people would pass they would hug me or place a
hand on my shoulder and whisper, "I'm sorry for your loss." Each person that came over was like
a stab in the heart and caused my eyes to overflow with tears. Soon, I was surrounded by faceless
black blobs of all shapes and sizes. Before I knew it, I was crying for the third time that morning.
Must be a new record, I thought, glancing at the clock and noticing it was only eight in the
morning.
I'd let a soft sob escape from my mouth as I leaned on the casket and with a heavy heart, I
placed a gold chain inside.
Before I knew what was happening, I was being dragged into another room.
"Kiera?" I heard someone call out, "It's me, Addy. Are you... okay?"
So many things ran through my mind. It was a sad thought that someone I haven't seen in
years was seeing a side of me I’ve kept under wraps. She got up and walked over to me, hugging
me, but not saying a word. We had both lost someone dear to us and so we felt empathetic for
each other.
We sat in silence for what seemed like forever, silently crying to ourselves as we listened
to what others had to say about my grandmother in the other room, being quiet enough that you
could practically hear each of our tears hit the floor, and our tears were constant streams down
our face, as if there was nothing we could do to stop them.
After a while, she asked me a question.
"Remember the puzzles?" She asked.
"Yeah," I managed to croak, "I have no idea how she did those thousand piece puzzles
without giving up... Or losing a piece," I replied.
"I know," Addy agreed.
With a huge lump in my throat, I tried to keep the conversation going.
"I still remember sitting in the basement watching the “Price is Right” as she did her
laundry," I ventured.
"And those days when Glory was down there! Grandma was the only one who could keep
her from running everywhere!" she exclaimed.
"Those days at Care One were fun, especially when we signed her purple cast with those
sharpies," I started.
"And when they didn’t show up because they were all shades of purple!" she finished.
Sharing these memories had kept us occupied but I was still distracted by the thought that
she's gone.
"You'll never believe this, but this morning, I fought my mom about actually burying
her," she confessed to me.
"Because it's as if we’ll never see her again and it's too, final, right?" I replied.
"Yes! How'd you know?" she asked.
My answer was simple, "I did the exact same thing this morning."
Knowing more than ever that I had someone who completely understood me felt great,
and brought me a couple overjoyed tears.
Thinking I was upset, Addy did whatever she could to get me to smile. She tried sticking
out her tongue, making silly faces, and jumping around like a maniac. After a couple tries, I was
laughing hysterically and going along with her. Who knew that wrinkling up my nose, sticking
out my tongue, and a couple corny jokes could alter my mood completely?
In the end, I learned that one good friend, an honest moment, and a couple shared laughs
could be the best medicine for a hurting heart. Next time someone makes a point of telling you
how important the right friends can be, you should listen because someday, that friend will make
you smile at your worst time.