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“I love you,” she murmurs, and draws endless circles with her finger on my forearm.
I press my lips onto her head and kiss her. “I love you too, Char.”
The service is beautiful. Flowers decorate nearly every inch of the funeral home. It is clear that Ella had a major impact on every person she met. The love that fills the room is infinite, and everyone’s heart is weighing extra heavy today.
Harper stands at the front of the room with a piece of paper in her hand.
“T-Thank you all for being here and for celebrating my little girl’s life today,” she says shakily. “Ella might not have had a long life in this world, but she had a happy one. She w-was such a bright and joyful girl,” she cries out.
The paper begins to shake as her hands tremble more and more. Charlotte stands up and rushes over to her, wrapping her arm around her shoulders.
Charlotte whispers something to her, then projects to all of us. “If it’s okay with you all, I would like to say a few things about Ella.” Char continues to console Harper as they stand beside Ella’s casket. “I met Ella at my first chemotherapy appointment. She was brave and outgoing enough to approach me. And I am so thankful that she did. I got to know her and Harper throughout my treatment.”
Harper watches her with tearful and endearing eyes as Charlotte continues, “Ella was a real-life princess. She was selfless and kind. She had a radiant glow that emanated from her. She was the type of girl who made her mom buy two tiaras—one for herself, of course, and one for the scared woman she’d decided to befriend. She might not have come from a royal bloodline, but that doesn’t matter. As far as anyone is concerned, she was and forever will be Princess Ella. I love her, and I will miss her every single day. Let us celebrate her life today and focus on all of the times she made us smile and laugh rather than the sadness that she is gone. Long live Princess Ella.”
The congregation breaks into applause, and a few even cheer out, “Long live Princess Ella.”
Harper and Charlotte hug for a minute before returning to sit beside me. A few other family members of Ella’s share happy memories and moments. It’s the most beautiful and heartwarming service I’ve ever been to.
Charlotte kisses my arm and squeezes me when she needs some support, and I’m at her disposal. I only met Ella once, but it was enough to understand why Charlotte became so fond of her. I can’t imagine what Harper, Ella’s friends and family, and Charlotte are feeling. I can’t imagine what I would do if I lost Abby.
After a few more stories, a few prayers, and a slideshow of photos and videos of Ella—including one of Charlotte and Ella in some waiting room, playing with crowns—we follow the officiant and Harper and others to the cemetery where she is being put to rest.
Charlotte hasn’t let go of my hand since we got out of my truck. Music is playing softly as the officiant says a prayer and Ella is slowly lowered into the ground. Harper shakily picks up a handful of soil and tosses it onto the casket. My eyes well up as everyone says their good-byes to both Ella and then Harper.
“Thank you…” Harper weeps and pulls Charlotte in for a long hug.
Releasing my hand from hers, I give them their space to grieve together, but I’m still here for when Charlotte needs me.
They have a quiet conversation that I can’t fully hear, and then Charlotte walks over to me. “Are you ready?”
Cupping her face, I stroke her wet and swollen cheeks. “Are you?”
She nods in my hands and flashes a mournful smile. “Yeah. I think she wants to have some time with her girl.”
“Okay, I’ll pull the truck up.” I lean down and kiss her forehead.
The ride home is quiet, and by the time we pull into the garage, I think Charlotte is about to pass out from exhaustion. I don’t know what it is about crying, but it is one of the most energy-depleting things in the world.
“Do you want me to run you a bath?” I ask her as I pull her door open and offer my hand to help her out of the tall pickup.
“No, I’m okay,” she says, hopping down.
“Okay.” I kiss her head and shut the door behind her.
She walks inside and heads straight upstairs. I follow behind her. She strips her black dress and tights off and throws them on the ground with force.
Her breathing quickens, and I see the spiral happening right before it’s about to hit. She sobs, then freezes.
“Take a deep breath.” I rub her back to try to calm her.
I know that her upper body is very limited in movement right now as she heals.
She sits down on the bed and scoots back with her legs crossed.
I hop onto the bed, gently pull her into my lap, and wrap my arms around her as she breaks apart.
“I’ve got you, baby,” I whisper. “I’m right here. I’ve got you.”
