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I opened the umbrella and raised it over my head. The rain tapped on the synthetic fabric and ran over the sides, and I was extremely thankful for the cover.
I turned and looked at the car in front of me, only to see two people standing by their doors, their umbrellas open and up, waiting for me.
My parents.
Walking up to their car, I joined them in silence. The three of us made our way over to the older man who was standing on the side of the road, waiting for us. All in all, there were only six of us gathered together, seven if you include the older man waiting for us, eight if you include the umbrella man.
Who, as I turned around to look over my shoulder, was now nowhere to be found.
So, we were back to seven.
But in my glance backward, I locked eyes with the person from the car behind me. I gave him a gentle smirk, even though I could feel my chin begin to quiver at the sight of him.Uncle Lucas.With soft steps and the rod of his umbrella resting on his shoulder, he approached my side, and without a word, his elbow nudged mine as a small, sympathetic grin rested on his face. I wanted to bury myself in him, right then and there, and let the fast-forming tears pour out of me.
But I collected myself and kept my composure. I can cry later.
My dad stretched across me and gave Uncle Lucas a pat on the shoulder, silently acknowledging the death of their youngest brother.
“You are all gathered here today in holy remembrance of the beloved Russell Castell,” the man began, speaking over the sound of rain.
I squeezed my eyes shut at the mention of his name.
“Uncle Russ! Uncle Russ! Come play Candyland with me!”
With one hand still holding my umbrella, my other hand found its way into my pocket, my thumb gliding along the plastic tissue wrapper in an attempt to ground me.
“Will you please follow and join me at his resting place?”
The older man—who was clearly a priest based on his clothing—stepped onto a stone path, and the six of us followed. I recognized the two people in front of us; they were a husbandand wife who were very close to Uncle Russ. The man was a friend since high school, and the woman was close because they were often together. I wish I could remember their names. Uncle Russ spoke nothing but good things about them, and seeing the look of sorrow on the man’s face told me all I needed to know. It hurt them as much as it hurt me.
I was sandwiched between Uncle Lucas and my dad, with my mom nestled in on his other side. Her arm looped through his, her sniffles loud enough to ring through the quiet, peaceful area.
The priest led us onto a narrow walkway that had buildings on both sides. Some were small, some were massive. Some had gates, some had windows, but all had open doors. I scrunched my face at the thought. Why were they all open? Weren’t the doors supposed to be closed in privacy, in respect for the deceased, in hopes they would gain peace?
As we walked, I glanced up and noticed last names on each building, and a few were so worn and faded that I had trouble reading them. Every building had greenery along the front and sides, spreading like beautiful vines in the gloomy air.
Then, the priest stopped in front of a new, large building. Tilting my head up and angling my umbrella back, my breathing stopped as I read the name above the door.
Castell.
There was no hope of keeping my tears in any longer.
An arm wrapped around my shoulders, and I leaned into it.
“It’s alright, sweets,” Uncle Lucas whispered to me. “It’s okay.”
His words were meant as a comfort, but sometimes comfort in the darkest of days only made my heart feel heavier.
“Die with the Lord in your heart, and you will gain eternal life.”
The rest of the words tuned out of my head as the priest rambled on about the afterlife, soul restoration, and the comfort of Heaven above. His words fell on deaf ears as I watched him extend his arm, showcasing the gorgeous structure.
My gaze fixed on the name etched in stone as everyone else bowed their heads in prayer. Blinking lightly, another tear slipped from my eye.
“Now, Celeste, you need to go out and give ‘em hell, you hear me?”
“It’s only cheer practice, Uncle Russ.”
“I know, but you need to show them thatyou’rethe best. Got it?”
