Page 11 of Life After Me

‘I’ve been trying for days to find the right words for this moment.

Those magical perfect words that would sum up Jenn’s life in a few short sentences and describe how much we’ll all miss her.

And I’ve been failing miserably.’ He took a deep breath.

‘But it’s not until I stood here in front of you all that I realise why.

What made Jenn really special, was how she was with other people.

She was bright and beautiful and clever and kind, and everyone loved her.

She inspired people and made them want to be better than they were.

She saw the best in people, even when others didn’t, and she brought it out.

‘Jenn could light up a room just by walking into it. But you already all know that. That’s why you’re here today, and Jenn would have been incredibly touched and grateful to see this church overflowing with the people who cared about her.’ He paused briefly as murmurs echoed round the congregation.

‘If she were here, she’d thank you all for coming, and remind you to take care of each other. So in her stead, I’ll tell you what I know she’d have said: “Look after each other, take the time to remember the things most important to you, and make the time to tell those people who they are.”

‘I’ve been dreading this moment, and, as I said, I haven’t been able to find the right words, so I decided to leave it to an expert. This poem was one of Jenn’s favourites, and one some of you might be familiar with. Especially if you’ve been in one of her English classes.’

David smiled at the young people lining the back of the church, amusement briefly filling his eyes as some of them nudged their friends, whispering. He was right, almost every English class I’d ever taught poetry to knew these words.

He took a deep breath, and his hands trembled slightly as he started to recite the poem that we both knew so well.

We’d discovered it in an old book decades back, when we’d been split apart by different universities and study courses.

For years, the last line had been how we’d signed every card, letter and even note that we’d given to each other.

A silly, personal little way of reminding the other of how we felt in our private relationship.

‘I wanted you in the darkness, when I didn’t know you yet,

And I fell for you in the grey dawn light, when our souls first met.

In the noon sky brightness, when we saw each other’s flaws

I knew that you still loved me, and I loved you all the more.

I’ve loved you through to sunset, through pink pains of eventide

And even as the light dims, I’ll stay here by your side.

Because I’ll love you in the morrow, and in every one to come,

And I know I’ll still love you, when time itself is done.

There’s no doubt in my mind, of this I am beyond sure,

I know I’ll love you for ever, that I’m always and ever yours.’

His voice finally gave out on the last line, choked by tears.

The final words were barely more than a whisper, but it didn’t matter because the whole church was silent enough to hear his ragged breath.

When the music started again, a few people jumped, and then nervous, relieved laughter followed.

They’d survived the horror of the funeral and most people would walk out of the church relatively unscathed.

Papers rustled as orders of service were shoved into bags and pockets, or smoothed carefully to be kept as mementoes.

The doors at the back swung open, bathing the church with cold, bright light. There were a few moments of confusion as the undertakers had to usher children out of the aisle to make way for my final journey.

The pallbearers walked solemnly towards my coffin, and I could feel David’s tension growing as they faced me, bowed, and lifted me to their shoulders in a single smooth movement.

They paused for a moment as David and Matty took up position between them on either side, taking me onto their shoulders as well.

The whole church stood, their eyes on me, or at least my coffin, as I was walked back up the aisle. The flowers bounced jauntily almost as though in time to ‘Angels’ by Robbie Williams. It did seem a little inappropriate but that’s what daffodils tend to do.

It’s only a relatively short aisle, no more than seventy-five feet or so, but every step was agony for David.

I could see his fingers tightening against the hard wood of the coffin as he carried it, trying to press into the wood to be closer to me.

As his knuckles turned white, I knew what he was thinking.

He desperately wanted to reach inside and pull me back to him, to wrap his hand around mine and never, ever let go.

There were only scant inches between our fingers, and yet we’d never been further apart. And we’d never be as close ever again. It’s enough to break what’s left of my heart into dust.

I knew David’s other thoughts clearly as well.

I could read it in his eyes as he thought about the last time he’d walked me up an aisle.

Then it had been in a blur of hope, promises and love wrapped in silk, lace and dreams for the future.

He’d slipped a gold ring onto my finger, promising we’d love each other for our whole lives, until death do us part.

Neither of us had expected it to be so soon. And I don’t think either of us had really considered an ending like this. I know all I’d thought about was how lucky I was that this sweet, wonderful, handsome, clever man had chosen me, of all people, to spend his life with.

Pain and grief have aged him so much that I hardly recognise him as the man I married all those years ago.

He’s as worn as the gold band that’s wrapped around his finger, digging into his skin slightly where he’s gained a little weight over the years.

I wish I could wrap myself around him as tightly as that metal.

I wish I could let him know I’m still here, but his pain buffets me away.

I’m helpless to do anything except watch.

* * *

David

We buried Jenn at the cemetery just half a mile from the church. It seemed a little silly, loading her into the car for such a short journey. In life she’d have laughed and taken the mickey out of anyone jumping in a car for a five-minute walk, but what choice did we really have?

I sat in the funeral car with Sarah, her husband, and Lottie, Matty and Lucy.

Lottie wove her fingers through mine tightly, but didn’t say anything.

None of us seemed to know what to say. I knew I should have been talking, that I should have thanked Sarah and Lucy for all their help organising everything, but I just couldn’t.

I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the hearse in front of us.

I couldn’t take my eyes off Jenn’s coffin.

It was all so terrifying, knowing that I was never going to see her ever again.

I wanted to remember every last detail. Even if it was just the polished grain of a mahogany coffin.

It was all over so quickly. Within minutes they had Jenn carefully balanced over the open grave, waiting for the last few words from the vicar.

Then they slowly lowered her down. It was so easy for them.

I found myself wondering how many thousands of times they’d done it, and whether they felt anything behind their solemn, professional masks.

If they had somehow found a way to numb themselves to the pain, then I wished I was one of them, because every inch they lowered Jenn was another stab of agony through me. Another flash of memory, another realisation of all the things we’d never do together again.

My hopes and dreams shattered as they lowered Jenn into that cold hole, and my future unravelled in front of my eyes.

I’d never see her eyes fill with proud tears as I walked Lottie down the aisle.

If she ever does get married, Lottie’s going to be like that girl in the awful charity commercial — standing alone in her wedding dress and wishing her mother was there.

I’m never going to see Jenn laughing and playing with her grandchildren, and we’re never going to walk barefoot along a beach on one of those holidays for pensioners that we’d teased each other about.

She’s not going to grow old with me, and we’re not going to retire and buy a little cottage in the country.

There’s so much Jenn’s never going to get to do.

I don’t know how I’m going to live without her — I don’t think I can even breathe.

They should throw me in the ground and bury me with her. I’m already dead inside.

In a way, I’m glad there were so many people there. Otherwise I might have actually climbed in after her. God knows I wanted to.

The students from Jenn’s school filed past the grave, holding the pure white tulips from Lucy’s basket.

Most of them were sniffling, and a few cried outright, holding on tightly to each other for support as they dropped the tulips into the grave.

Some paused to whisper a few words. ‘We’ll miss you, Miss.

Won’t be the same without you.’ A couple of the older students even paused to shake my hand and murmur a few words of comfort.

To tell me how much they’d miss Jenn, and that school wasn’t going to be the same without her. As if I didn’t know already.

Then it was over.

People streamed from the cemetery, a few pausing to look back, but most just walking away.

I wished I could walk away and go back to my life so easily, but it’s lying in the ground with Jenn.

After a few moments, Matty and Lottie left my side, whispering their own farewells to their mum as they left.

Sarah squeezed my fingers tightly, and peered down sadly.

‘Goodbye little sis, sweet dreams.’ She dropped another flower into the grave and brushed away her tears.

Then I was finally alone with Jenn.