What Was Lost

Chapter 18

Grace exhales a slow, shaky breath as she looks out at the small crowd gathered in front of her. Her heart is heavy with conflicting emotions, making it difficult to steady her breathing and compose herself. One particular emotion feels disingenuous - the fact that she had been preparing to leave Ryan prior to his sudden death, a secret only Prisha knew. In public, she must play the part of a poor woman who tragically lost the love of her life, rather than the disillusioned wife who was planning on leaving him. And with the news of his affair with Bridget, Grace carries the additional weight of being the scorned and betrayed spouse. It's humiliating for her to stand up here and deliver a eulogy for a man who has caused her so much pain and turmoil. Yet, she must put on a brave face and honor his memory in front of everyone.

A small lot nestled in the heart of uptown, just a stone's throw from where Ryan had grown up, had been transformed into a tranquil green space. Sunlight filtered through the leaves of towering trees, dappling the grass below with patches of golden light. A tasteful placard dedicated to Ryan and his years of selfless service adorned one corner of the park. As Grace stepped up to speak, her throat tightened with emotion. She battled a myriad of conflicting feelings- pride at her husband's accomplishments, sorrow for his absence, anxiety at having to give this speech alone. In their time together, she had become well-acquainted with public speaking, often giving eloquent speeches as Ryan campaigned for office. But now, without his support and guidance, she felt unsteady and unsure.

She stands at the front of the crowd, her eyes scanning over the expectant faces that are all too familiar. In one corner, she spots Ryan's parents and grandparents, their expressions a mix of sadness and hope. She forces herself to make eye contact with them, knowing that they also carry the weight of loss on their shoulders. In another corner, she sees some old friends of Ryan's, people she used to spend hours talking and laughing with. But now, after his funeral, their interactions have become strained and uncomfortable. Their main source of connection, Ryan, is no longer here and their conversations are reduced to either reminiscing about him or making small talk. It's like walking through a minefield, trying to navigate these relationships without Ryan.

Ryan's mother sat on a plastic chair, her hands clutching a crumpled tissue in her lap, tears streaming steadily down her cheeks since their arrival. She looked small and vulnerable, like a wilted flower in need of nourishment. His father sat beside her, his face stoic and determined, his jaw clenched tight. Mia had embraced Ryan's mother multiple times since they showed up, knowing that the woman was starved for affection and touch. It baffled her how Phil couldn't see the need for his wife to receive love and comfort in this difficult time.

But that was just how Ryan's family was - reserved and emotionally closed-off, with their Irish Catholic roots. Affection was conveyed through firm handshakes and gentle pats on the back, rather than warm hugs and loving kisses. Throughout his childhood, Ryan had been deprived of love and approval from his distant parents. This was the driving force behind his tireless efforts to earn their affection. As they sat under the shade of a towering oak tree, Mia couldn't help but feel a heavy wave of sadness wash over her. She mourned the fact that he never truly knew just how deeply he was loved and cherished by all those around him.

With a polite smile, she turns to a small group of people off to the side. "I'd like to acknowledge the Old Northside Board and St. Bishop's for their tireless efforts in designing and developing this space as a tribute to Ryan. For those who knew him, Ryan was a steadfast advocate for creating more green areas in our city and promoting environmentally conscious land development. If you knew him you'd know he would likely already be scoping out this space, plotting ways to throw a neighborhood block party, and in his phone securing permits from local officials. His love for bringing people together in joyful celebration was unmatched." The memory brings a gentle chuckle from the crowd as they nod in agreement.