Good Man

My beating heart belongs to you
I walked for miles 'til I found you
I'm here to honor you



Morning dew had long since evaporated by the time cars and limos were arriving to the cemetery where Giselle had been buried a year earlier; the people exiting their vehicles and filing in two by two into the Gothic Chapel where the funeral service had been held. But this time, there was a different mood in the air. It was not quite one of grief, though that feeling would always be there in the back of everyone's mind, no matter what. It was a general sense of peace, one could say.

Life moving on as contentedly as possible.

As mentioned, the grief was not so strong anymore, even if it would always remain in some fashion. Mostly because no one was at this place, today, to remember the death of a fallen loved one, but take a step back and remember who they were in life and celebrate that.

The day earlier had been another such celebration; one of life.

Avarielle had her big, first birthday party. She was walking around with her father chasing after her in the backyard whenever he thought she was getting too close to the pool. Ramona opted to take turns with her dad at certain points, watching her now-toddler sister so that he could have a moment of less stress. After all, being forty-one and tending to a little child around the clock was not the easy feat it had been for him nearly twenty years earlier when he was first chasing Ramona around.

"Goddamn," he had muttered to no one in particular after Ramona had taken to looking at Avarielle. The drummer stood up straight and arched his back so that his chest puffed out slightly, which was followed by a dull series of pops and cracks. An elated sigh emitted from his lips and he smiled. "Oh, that felt good. I am no spring chicken anymore."

"Yeah," came Billie Joe's voice in passing. "Now you're just an old cock."

Avarielle had received so many gifts at her party that Tre was at a loss with what to do with them all. It wasn't like she wanted for anything, or that she even really understood the full extent of what was going on around her yet. She was so preoccupied with the wrapping paper and boxes her gifts came in than anything else. It was all rather amusing.

Especially when she had hot pink frosting from her mini cake in her hair and all over her face. Tre had crouched down a little to be at her level in her high chair where she was feeding herself with her hands. He grabbed one of her caked up hands and brought it to his lips, sucking all the mucky digits into his mouth like he was gonna gobble her up, which only caused the littlest Wright to giggle incessantly, throwing her head back a little for good measure.

Her blue eyes scanned the crowd of guests huddled together in front of her, snapping pictures with their cameras and cell phones at the scene before them, oohing and ahhing at the cuteness of Avarielle grabbing more cake with her hand and Tre going to eat it out of her palm, only for Avarielle to smush it against his nose and for him to lean back and cough as some went up his nostrils.

Then, of course, there was Billie Joe who had snatched his wife's camera from her and got in real close toward Tre to snap a picture of the frosting up the younger man's nose.

"Priceless," the green-eyed man smirked. "I'm so posting this one on the Internet."

All in all, the birthday had been a success and was in no way overshadowed by the fact that the following day was the one year anniversary of Giselle's death.

But now that day had arrived -- June 21st -- the mood had changed slightly. People weren't laughing and joking like a pair of nutjobs at the sight of frosting up Tre's nose or how adorable Avarielle looked in her little pink dress now that it matched the hot pink frosting that had dried and crusted slightly in sections of her hair.

People were dressed more solemnly, their mood was more respectful and even the breeze over the nearby pond was calm and cool.

The color of choice for attire to this occasion was not black. That was expressly stressed on behalf of Tre and Giselle's family. This was not a funeral, but a memorial service. But, to keep it still generally formal, the color chose was a nice, natural and earthy browns or greens. The colors of nature, to that of which Giselle returned upon burial, and what always reminded Tre of Giselle.

He'd always said there was something ethereal about her.

Au natural, if you will.

There was a podium at the top of the altar area, which Billie Joe and his son Joey were debating on. Joey insisted it was a podium, Billie Joe was calling it a lectern. Then there was Adrienne who said they were both right and to shut the hell up before she crucified them to the cross over the altar.

At the podium-lectern, Tre stood with his thick fingers curled around the sides, smiling ruefully out at the sea of friends and family who had gathered at this same place, once more, where they had all gathered together 365 days prior.

His blue eyes scanned as many faces as he could register, while trying to not think that the podium-lectern was situated where Giselle's casket had been placed during her funeral service.

To Tre's right, Caroline sat in the front row, aisle seat, with Mikey immediately to her left, followed by Chloe on Estelle's lap. On the other side of the seventeen-year-old was Ramona who was holding Avarielle and then Frankito. In the row directly behind them all was Adrienne and Billie Joe along with their two sons. On Tre's left, sat Paul and Joanne Woods, then Ellis, Paul's mother Gloria who was Giselle and Caroline's only living grandparent left on either of their adoptive parents' sides. Beside her were some aunts and uncles, followed by more aunts and uncles and their children in the row behind them. Extended families and family friends sat closer than regular friends and former work associates of Giselle from St. Francis Memorial Hospital in San Francisco.

It was a packed house, so to speak.

"Giselle was a light in the night when the world was dark and you couldn't see where you were going," Tre began, his voice somewhat deep, lacking his usual goofy twang. "When you needed help to figure your life out or just needed that extra assistance in opening a jar of pickles, she was there for you." A murmur of gentle chuckles sprang forth and quietly faded away as Tre continued his speech of sorts. "I remember the first time I met Giselle. As most of you know her sister Caroline and I had been a thing once upon a million years ago and it was Caroline's birthday and I chose to surprise her by getting a hold of Giselle and secretly flying her out here to California from North Carolina for a surprise. But, I think I was the one in for a surprise. See, I had seen pictures of Giselle that Caroline had but I never really gave them a second look. And there I was, at the airport with my sign that said 'Giselle Woods' on it, waiting for her to come out past the security gates. And she was the one who spotted me first..." Tre trailed, frowning at himself. "Probably because she saw her name on the sign, obviously. And I noticed her then as she waved at me and smiled this big smile and I just remember thinking, 'Wow, those pictures did not do her justice.'"

Tre looked to the front row to his right, directly at Caroline. She was biting her bottom lip to either hold back tears or to hold back a laugh. She was nodding her head with the last thing he spoke, a smile starting to spread across her lips as reached over to place an arm around Estelle's back and give the teenager a tight squeeze on her shoulder.

"She was smarter than I'll ever be, never short on wit, could shake her butt on the dance floor like it was no one's business and her hair was so curly and occasionally frizzy whenever it rained that I liked to refer to it as organized chaos. Which, I guess, is how some people might describe me sometimes."

Another bubble of laughter came out into the open as Tre grinned a little.

"She was more than just my wife, my best friend...the mother of our daughter Avarielle. Giselle was a sister, a daughter, an aunt, a friend, a doctor, a woman. She was all these things and more than we will ever know or begin to comprehend. I know you have all probably seen me at my worst over the last year and possibly hated me when I was mean or rude to you. I know I wasn't the only one grieving, but it sure felt like it. Sometimes it still does. But, it's in the past, that chapter in my life. I have a little girl who needs me to be her dad and her mom and I don't plan on letting either her or Giselle down. I want to get some semblance of my life back and if that means finally laying the love of my life to rest, then that's what I'll have to do." He then looked out at everyone. "That's what we all need to do."

Sending a look toward Ellis, he nodded at her, signaling her to stand up to meet him at the podium-lectern thing. He stepped back and to the side as she cleared her throat and smiled.

"Hi," she began, folding her hands on the podium-lectern's surface. "I didn't know Giselle as long as I would've wished. I didn't know her like everyone else here did. But, she was still my sister and I loved her more than it was humanly possible. And in honor of her life and the lives she touched, the help she offered her patients at St. Francis Memorial and her family and friends she loved so much, I am so pleased to announce that the new free clinic here in Oakland that I have been working on opening with Tre and several of St. Francis Memorial's doctors will soon be open for business and is to be named the Giselle Wright Memorial Free Clinic," Ellis announced, followed by a wave of happy exclamations.

Caroline's eyes were watering and her mother Joanne, sitting across the way, was already sobbing softly as her husband Paul wrapped an arm around her and kissed her temple, a pleased smile on his lips. He was trying so hard no to cry as well.

"Now, people of all shapes and sizes, colors and creeds, with little to no medical coverage or benefits can see a doctor and get the help they need, in hopes that healthy lives can be sustained and preserved, and needless deaths avoided."

A wayward sob finally escaped from Caroline's lips as she brought a hand to her mouth to cover it up. She didn't feel like breaking down anymore in public. She wanted to be a strong, calm and collected woman.

Oddly, she wanted to be a bit more like Ellis, who seemed to hold her head high in the most trying of times.

Adrienne leaned forward in her seat and pressed her forehead against the back of Caroline's head, patting the younger woman on the shoulder and giving it a slight squeeze.

"Giselle would be so happy," Adrienne spoke.

Caroline nodded, "I know," she squeaked out, wiping the tears away as she began to smile. "She'd be pissing her pants in joy," she added. "She always talked about running her own clinic. Now she has one named after her."



After the memorial service, about eighty-five percent of the guests left directly afterward. There would be no reception to follow so there was no need for anyone to linger who weren't immediate family.

Tre and his children, Caroline and her children, the Armstrongs, Ellis, and Paul and Joanne Woods were all huddled around Giselle's grave. The stone was simple, gray marble and the grass was flat from the mound of dirt that had been replaced after burial finally settling and fresh grass having grown with the help of sod and grass seedlings.

Several small bouquets of flowers had been placed at the base of the headstone, along with several solitary roses of all different colors.

Tre was the only one with a red rose, which he was still holding on to.

It was Billie Joe who suggested they all bow their heads and say a prayer together; everyone linking hands with one another. The suggestion of the Lord's Prayer was thrown out there, but it was Caroline who shook her head and offered to recite a different prayer. One befitting Giselle and where she did her good works.

The Prayer of Saint Francis.

And instead of speaking it, she sang it sans music to the tune of Sarah McLachlan's version.

"Lord, make me an instrument of your peace; where there is hatred, let me sow love; where there is injury, pardon; where there is doubt, faith; where there is despair, hope; where there is darkness, light; and where there is sadness, joy..." her singing voice cut through the general silence in more of a mezzo-soprano sound than her usual alto. "O Divine Master, grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled as to console; to be understood, as to understand; to be loved, as to love; for it's in giving that we receive, and it's in pardoning that we are pardoned, and it's in dying that we are born to Eternal Life. Amen."

When she was done singing, Caroline noticed a few sniffles and muffled sobs. She lifted her head and looked at the others, who looked back at her.

"That was so beautiful," Ellis cooed, tears stinging her eyes and threatening her mascara. The older woman immediately threw her arms around her sister's sister and the pair hugged tightly and probably the most genuinely for the first time since meeting on Christmas Eve a year and a half earlier.

"Thank you," Caroline whispered. When she pulled back, she was crying now. "Not just for the compliment, but for everything. For how you stepped up to take care of the funeral last year, for being the aunt and mother figure Avarielle deserved when I wasn't there, for helping Tre out, and for helping get that clinic started. That was one of her dreams..."

Ellis nodded. "I know. She told me not long after her and I met. I planned on helping her do it someday. Just, now it has to be done with her in spirit."

Caroline nodded, then looked to Tre who was there to hug next. His arms felt strong and warm around her. It was so very comforting.

"Think we can do this again in less than two months for Mike?" he asked her after placing a kiss on her cheek.

As they pulled back from each other, Caroline was wiping her eyes again and nodding. "Yeah, I think we should. There wasn't anything done last year for him except for each wallowing in our private grief, closed off from those who love us."

Tre nodded. "We'll get the wheels in motion for that, then."

Everyone began to break apart from the circle and hug different people before finally and gradually walking away from Giselle's grave to only leave three people.

Tre, Caroline, and even little Avarielle.

Caroline stood with her hands clasped in front of her as Tre crouched down in front of the headstone with his rose while holding on to Avarielle's hand as she stood there; about as tall as her the marble stone with her mommy's name on it.

Tre handed his daughter the rose and gestured to the other flowers. "Put the rose down there, Avrie. Go on..." He had to coax her a little further because she seemed to want to either hold onto it or throw it in the complete opposite direction. When she successfully laid the rose down, Tre clapped. "Yay, good girl," he cooed. "Now kiss mommy's stone."

Avarielle turned her head and just stared at her daddy.

"C'mon, like this," he spoke showing her how it was done. Puckering his lips, he leaned forward and pressed his mouth to the cold marble, gave an audible smack of a kiss and leaned back, gesturing for Avarielle to try.

Cautious at first, the one-year-old followed suit and mimicked her father by giving a quick kiss to the headstone and then smiling when both her daddy and Aunt Caroline clapped and cheered her on.

Giggling and stomping happily in place, Avarielle looked up as her daddy stood back up, pushing off his knees and throwing a grimace toward Caroline.

"Old age," he grumbled.

Caroline laughed and shook her head as the two adults each took one of the little girls hands and began to walk away from the headstone which read: