After someone we love passes away, it is all about turning to those you love to help pick up the pieces. There is no quick fix and even the ones who seem to be the strongest of all can eventually break down. We all grieve in our own separate ways.
At one point over the past couple of days, I found the ring that Luis used to fake propose and I have been holding onto it ever since. There is a sense of hope that I feel when I keep it close, so it has been sitting in the palm of my hand all morning.
Today is the day of my mother's funeral which is why I need that sense of hope now more than ever. I was asked to write a eulogy and while I have the rough draft of something that I have revised over and over it still does not feel complete.
But right now, it is all that I have. I am sitting on a chair outside the church reading over my notes in a whirl of frustration. They just don't make sense.
"Nicky... I want you to meet someone who has become very important to me," Adam says with the first small trace of optimism that I have heard come from his lips in the past few days.
That sentence right there, I am thankful for. It gives me something else to focus my mind on. I glance up and see him approaching and the man that stands beside him actually makes me laugh in irony. I don't know where it comes from but the laugh just pours from my mouth.
Do you remember the Chris Hemsworth look alike from the bar at the beginning of this story? Well, he is the man that is standing alongside Adam. It turns out that they did know each other before the fire...
"It's Thor," I say with a thin line of optimism.
There is a slight smile on Adam's face, "Yeah. Actually, his name is Matt. He was the fireman who saved me from the fire. Would you believe it?"
I wipe away a few random tears and get to my feet to shake Matt's hand. "Sorry, I'm a little weepy right now," I say.
"Don't be sorry. I understand. I hear you have to write the eulogy... how is it going?"
I hand him the piece of paper which has nothing but scribbled out sentence after scribbled out sentence. "I'm not the best writer. I even struggled with writing a backstory for..." I stop myself before I can finish my sentence.
Adam picks up on my hesitation and tells me: "Nicky, it's about writing what you feel. Be realistic because writing fact is always more inspiring than writing fiction."
I smile up at him and understand why he told Luis and I to go with our real backstory, as opposed to his made up one. As flawed as our backstory was, it was the imperfections that made it real. That made it memorable.
"Nicky, Adam." My father's voice calls out from behind Adam and Matt, making us all turn and face him. "They're about to begin," he adds.
I collect my papers and then slip the ring onto my finger subtly. Luis may not be here, but right now I need to find the hint of support in the simplest of possessions.
I approach my father and take his hand in my own. Adam places his arm around my shoulder and together we all make our way inside the church.
This might literally be the first time that I have stepped forth inside a church since I was a young child. It feels really weird being in one, but at least I haven't turned to ash just by stepping over the threshold.
We find our seats in the very front row. Seeing the closed casket instantly makes me hold my father's hand even tighter than before. Almost as tightly as I would if I was a young girl.
Matt and Adam find their seats first. I sit next to Adam and my father sits to the right of me, by the aisle. As the priest speaks I can barely listen I am relaying my mother's last words over and over in my mind. 'You are stronger than you think.'
