Tonight was the vigil and in less than 10 hours I’ll be sitting at your funeral.
Pierce, it’s weird being in a room of crying people who miss you.
Everyone leaning into the others embrace as they process that you’re gone.
Everyone talking about you and how well they knew you.
It’s hard to grieve in a room of crying people.
I hold myself together to ensure that they will be ok and that they have a shoulder to lean on.
But Pierce, when I’m at home, the home you visited often, I start to fall apart.
I hear the echo of your laughter dancing down the hall.
I hear your voice when you talked and bragged about all the things you’ve done.
I feel you.
In my anxiety tonight I felt like I couldn’t breathe…
Walking down the line, greeting your family…
Finally reaching your mom and dad at the end. My heart sank.
I couldn’t even look at the casket.
I knew if I looked inside it wouldn’t be you.
It wouldn’t be little Pierce.
And as I walked past not daring to look in, I started to hyperventilate,
I felt like the world was closing in on me.
I couldn’t breathe even a little. I wanted to hide.
I walked outside and hid behind a wall just craving to catch my breath.
My hands were shaking.
And my shoulders and neck get tense every time I start to think about the fact that you’re never coming back.
I don’t want tomorrow to come.
I don’t think I’m ready to accept that you’re gone.
Your body, going into the ground- decomposing…
That’s not the way it’s supposed to happen.
That’s not the way my friends die.
Pierce what are we supposed to do.
Are we, our little family that you left behind, going to be ok.
You wouldn’t believe it but J and J both got in car wrecks on the way to the area for our funeral that is happening because of a car wreck.
I feel sick Pierce. And in a group of people I’ll hold it together.
But the night time is hard and I just find myself once again wishing that you were here.
You were my little brother and you were my friend.
And I just don’t know what to do, knowing I won’t see you till Heaven.