It felt scripted. As though I was a character in a story where the audience understood everything that I didn't. As though I went through the entire day before I realised where I actually was.
It started a beautiful day, the sky blue, sun shining down on the delicate flowers. Everyone gathered dressed in their best, colour co-ordinated, looking sharp. Laughter and memories filled the clouds overhead.
As the hearse pulled up to the house, the sky opened with a downpour of tears, hitting the solemn faces. The umbrellas went up as the family were escorted to the limousines. Not a soul spoke.
The journey felt long. The traffic moderate, with drivers desperately avoiding the build up caused by respect. No one quite grasped where they were going, or why.
Hearts poured out emotion all around, people beginning to realise what was going on. Did I? I'm not sure. I think I was still sitting there, as though watching from another place. It couldn't be real, it was too quick? So unexpected? That's when I began to realise.
The service was beautiful, and so began the day for what it was. Not a day of mourning a life lost, but a day of celebrating the life had, and the possibility of what may.
So why am I telling you this? To make sure you make the most of life. Surround yourself by your close ones and tell them you love them. Chances are, they already know, but ask yourself, have you told them? If you haven't, is it worth the risk not to? I would suggest not.
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