Mary's Song (Oh My My My)

It was overcast. This was not the weather I had prayed for. Then again it seemed fitting. A dark forbidding day, fitting for an occasion like this.

I stood in a crowd of friends and family, all mourning, all with tear streaked cheeks. I stood in the middle of them feeling completely alone, my face was bone dry and my heart was filled with a numbing like sensation.

We were then all gathered around and seated to watch. His body lay still and hard in that wooden casket. The love of my life. He was gone and I was still here. The priest started his prewritten speech filled with information from the crowd, a retelling of his life that was intertwined with mine.

I remember when I was seven and he was nine. I always looked up to him. He always looked amazing in my eyes, always the hero of my tale. Our dad’s always joked about us falling in love when we grew up while our mother’s sat and rolled their eyes, laughing at their soppy husbands.

I remember after our dad’s first said that, I went to bed that night dreaming of a future where I was always held in his arms. Where he would never let go and neither would I, ever.
He was two years older than I was and I always feared that he would grow too old for me, he never did.

I hadn’t noticed when the priest had finished and his best-male-friend took the stage. He was both of our best-friend, always there for the two of us even in the beginning.

When I was 16 I saw the look in his eyes change and yet it was still the same and so was mine. He had finally realised I wasn’t just his childhood friend, I was his match, his girl, HIS. I remember the early morning rides in his car, just being next to him, that’s what I loved so much.

Our best-friend laughed through his tears and looked straight at me, I think he was retelling a story. The story about our first fight, I remember it like it was yesterday.

I was yelling, he was yelling, we were slamming doors and yet I couldn’t quite remember what we were fighting about. I wanted so much to kiss him quickly before he left but I was so angry, I couldn’t. I sat on my bed crying for hours before I made up my mind to run to his house only to find he had been sitting outside waiting for me the whole time.

Next his sister had gotten up to talk, her and I had become very close, we were like sisters ourselves, like blood sisters not just sister-in-laws. She told the story of how he proposed to me, that was one of the happiest moments of my life.

We were sitting in our favourite spot in town when he got down on one knee and proposed to me. I had never knew I could feel suck happiness until them.
I was walking down a white isle in a small church filled to the brim with our family and friends. He was standing at the other end with the most perfect smile on his face. His eyes still amazing, he was still the hero in my tale. My life felt so perfect as he and I said ‘I do’ and then kissed for the first time as husband and wife, I didn’t think my life could get any better.

Our daughter was the last one to give her speech.

“My father was an amazing person. He was the greatest father any girl or boy” she quickly looked down at our three handsome sons, two in naval uniform, sitting next to me,
“ and he was a great husband, I don’t know how many times my mother said that she couldn’t have found a more perfect husband and father for us kids even if she had plucked him out of her dreams.” She paused for a second trying to hold back her tears, she was in pain everyone was. She was the eldest of our children, he was so proud of her every single second of every single day, he was proud of them all and his three grandchildren.

“I know she would love to tell you all about exactly how great he was, how amazing he was, how he was the hero in her tale. Though that would take forever,” she laughed a little and sobbed a little.
“I would just like to say thank you... thank you mum and dad for the great life you have given us and the world, no one will ever forget you in this life or the next.” And with that the funeral came to an end. My daughter’s husband helped her down from the podium as my husband, my best-friend was lowered into the ground.

I wanted to cry, I wanted to collapse of the floor, I didn’t want his life to be over, and mine. He was my life. My love.

“Come on mum, you need to start the dropping of the dirt.” My eldest son helped me up. My old body was so fragile these days. I could hardly walk on my own anymore. He held my arm holding me up as he lead me to the grave. I couldn’t even pick up the dirt on my own. As I held the dirt in my hand I couldn’t bring myself to drop it on his final resting place.

“I will see you soon. You and I. I love you.” And with that I let the dirt fall.