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“Kelsey, we need your help,” my dad says. I slowly open my eyes until his tearful face comes into focus.
“What’s wrong?”
What else could go wrong this week? Our lives have already been permanently darkened by my sister’s passing.
“Your mom can’t do the eulogy.”
I sigh. I knew this would happen. Mom could barely pull herself together to get to the funeral home today. No one expected her to get in front of the modest crowd and speak. I did expect her to at least try though.
Luckily though, I prepared some words just in case. It’s clearly time to step up to the plate.
“Okay,” I say. “I can do it.”
My dad’s shoulders fall, the tension leaving him. “Thank you, Kelsey.”
I follow him out into the hallway, pausing to touch the photo of Jane and I on her collage. “I can do this,” I whisper to her. I only hope it’s true.
We’re joined in the hallway by the priest and Marcus. We’re not particularly religious, but Mom thought it necessary to have some type of religious invocation.
“I’ll say the prayers we picked out,” the priest tells me. “Then your brother in law will say a few words before introducing you to give the full eulogy. Take as much time as you need.”
My parents, Marcus, and I follow the priest into the parlor and take our front row seats while he arranges himself behind the podium. He clears his throat and speaks the prayers in a gentle, calming tone. This is certainly not the first time he’s had to speak at a funeral. I don’t know how he can do a job that is surrounded by sadness so often, but I’m thankful he’s here. The prayers captivate the mourners and touch my heart. Jane would be happy.
“And now, Jane’s husband would like to say a few words.”
I try to focus on the “Jane’s husband” part of this ordeal rather than watching how handsome Marcus is in his dark suit. Are those slacks the same ones I peeled from his skin a few nights ago? No, these are definitely different. They make him look just as good, though.
“Thank you, Father,” Marcus says. His booming voice startles the parlor awake. “Jane was a light even in the darkest of times. She had her struggles, but she always persevered. I loved her – I will always love her. And I am so lucky to have spent the last few years in her presence. However, there are people here who loved her much longer than I had the chance to. Her younger sister, Kelsey, would like to say a few words about Jane’s life. Kelsey?”
I stand to scattered applause – is one supposed to applaud at a funeral? – and make my way to the podium. Marcus squeezes my shoulder as I trudge past him. His palm leaves behind a hot handprint on my skin. Hopefully the crowd mistakes my deep breath as nerves, and not lust. I’m probably the only person on the planet who has been aroused at a funeral.
But I have to act with propriety, and force myself to stay somber.
“Thank you, Marcus,” I say into the microphone. My voice echoes off the walls. “I know Jane loved her husband very much.” And yet I had sex with him the night she died!
The thought makes me shiver. If the crowd takes notice, they don’t react. I avoid eye contact with Aunt Sylvia as I’m sure she’s wearing a knowing, disapproving look. I take a deep breath and begin.
“Jane was an incredible woman and my hero. I remember growing up, I wanted to be just like Janie. I told her that once, and she tapped my nose and said, ‘No, Kelsey, I want to be just like you.’” The funeral home directors were kind and smart enough to leave a box of tissues on the podium. I take one and dab my eyes.
“She had a way of making everyone else in the room feel strong and important even when she was weak and afraid. Jane loved attention, but she wasn’t afraid to share it with anyone who wanted to join her in the spotlight.
“My sister was passionate and loving. She may not have had a career outside the home, but she worked hard to be a great sister and a wonderful wife. Jane loved to cook and take care of the house. Her passion was always in making sure everyone else was comfortable and happy.
“Jane and I had our differences. I mean, look at us!” The crowd mumbles a laugh. “She hated confrontation and I live for it. She always wanted eyes on her and I prefer to be behind the scenes. And yet here I am, standing up here to tell you about my incredible sister. Life is unfair that way. But Janie would love this.”
