Coming from a life of drugs, money, and women, Michael "Meechie" Jackson had the world in the palm of his hands. He had power and his business, which he built from the ground up, morphed him into one of the most well-known drug lords in the city.
I...
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After ending the call with his mother-in-law, Michael immediately shook his wife awake to tell her the news he was just told. He hated having to do it but knew it couldn't wait until later. For the remainder of that morning, he consoled her to the best of his ability whilst speaking comforting words like "she's in better place, baby" and shedding tears of his own.
He didn't cry because of her; he and Isla formed their own close bond that he felt just only begun. An half a year wasn't long but it was enough to remember the fond memories talking and joking over the phone as if they knew each other for years. He could never forget how she always let it be known how good of a man he was to Irish and that she loved him. He would tell her "I love you more, sis"and mean it with his entire heart.
Irish's gut wrenching cries of a repetitive "no" shattered his heart into pieces. Devastated wasn't even remotely close to the emotion she felt after finding out about Isla's earthly departure. It just didn't feel real almost as if it was all a bad dream that she had a hard time waking up from. All that she could think about was their last conversation four days prior to her passing, her appearance, the excruciating pain she endured but still smiled and laughed through it all like it was nothing. God, it just didn't feel real. She had become inconsolable, but Michael was there for her from sun up to sun down until she had fallen asleep against his chest from crying nonstop all morning.
The funeral took place the following week; Charleigh didn't want to hold off much longer and gave out of state family and friends time to accommodate their schedules to travel to North Carolina. The memorial service was nothing short of beautiful. Friends and family spoke of fond memories, the voices of the choir done an amazing job singing a few of Isla's favorite songs she loved to sing at church and the reverend gave an exceptional eulogy. When it came time to view her body, each row were instructed one by one to form a single file line.
Irish kept her shades on to prevent others from looking at her grief stricken face. Michael placed his hand at the low of her back as it was now their turn to view her resting body. It felt like the tears she released the entire week was everything she had left in her. She was all cried out but when her eyes fell upon Isla's unmoving embalmed corpse looking flawlessly angelic and at peace, is when one tear trickled down her left cheek followed by another on the right cheek. More eventually flooded them as her eyes couldn't look away from the woman she considered her twin sister.
Michael pulled her close, kissing the top of her head with his stinging and reddening eyes glued to Isla as well. Irish rested her head against him, feeling his large palm gently stroke her left arm in a comforting way. At some point they were aware to move along for others to view but anyone that new Irish and Isla knew the closeness of their relationship and out of respect, allowed her to have her moment until she was ready to sit down.
