Chapter 44

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Colby

"I'm so sorry for your loss," Dianna Mason whispers with glistening eyes. She pulls me into a hug, which seems to soothe her more than me. No doubt she grieves the loss of Mama—they were in diapers together. Still, each offered condolence brings me one step closer to losing my composure.

All family has been instructed to wait behind the seating of the graveside service, giving us the opportunity to greet Mama's guests as they arrive. I'm pleased by the turnout in her honor, and even more so, that Daddy seemed to know exactly what she'd wanted.

Despite having a funeral director, the planning process has been enormously onerous. From the moment we lost Mama, my brothers, Dad, and I have been working tirelessly to prepare for today, leaving little opportunity for the finality of it all to set in. While he's been tense throughout all the planning, Daddy has remained a presence, much to my Aunt Julie's disapproval.

Aunt Jules is Mama's little sister and her best friend in the world. She and my uncle Dennis visited Mama frequently, traveling from their home in North Carolina multiple times a year to drop in on her. Every day she called to check in, though most days Mama couldn't recall who she was.

Aunt Jules and Uncle Den made it into town a couple of days ago, and I've never seen her so broken. She's been out of sorts and has barely even spoken to my brothers or me since her arrival. I am grateful for the help they've both offered, although, for Aunt Jules I believe it's been more in an attempt to distract herself from her grief.

We greet person after person as they filter in from the parking lot, and after the first twenty or so, my responsiveness to their kind words tapers into pre-programmed acknowledgments. Nothing they say changes the fact that she's gone.

My friends leave me pleasantly surprised with their support. Wynona and Cole arrive together, soon followed by Ari and Mari. Nash has been here almost as long as I have, having come with Reverend Porter and his mama. Morgan came alone but was joined later by Lana, who was one of the last people I expected to see here.

The truth is, funerals aren't for the dead, nor are they for the closure of the families of the deceased. They exist to make people feel like they're helping those who were left behind cope with their loss. I appreciate the efforts of everyone who has taken the time to be here, and for all the love, lasagnas, and egg casseroles they've showered us with over the past week, but the loss remains.

Over the last few days, the emotions have come in waves. As I wrote my eulogy for Mama, all I felt was relief- relief that she no longer had to live a life void of memories and joy, and relief that I no longer had to fear losing her.

Guilt quickly followed, along with regret and sadness so profound that sleep hasn't met me in days.

And then there's disbelief.

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