“Do you want me to get the car?”
Voices echo around me, but I don’t really hear them. I can’t. All I can focus on is the mahogany coffin in front of me because inside it is my son.
I think the service was beautiful. I don’t know for certain as it felt like I was viewing it through the eyes of a stranger. How can I accept this reality, a reality where Misha doesn’t exist?
A sob gets caught in my throat and fresh tears fall down my cheeks. I don’t think they’ll ever stop.
Joy organized this simple, yet tasteful funeral for Misha. He wouldn’t want a fuss. It didn’t surprise me the chapel was overflowing with people. Everyone loved Misha. His friends gave a beautiful account of who my son was.
He touched so many people. But now, he won’t be able to touch anybody ever again because he’s in
