Personal Narrative: A Parent's Funeral

Silence as well as sadness filled the air. The dinner table is a time of laugher, joy, story times, including the occasional arguments, but tonight seemed to be the complete opposite. Silence consumed the room. Decisively, Uncle Mark spoke, “Well, I always knew this time would come, and I always knew I would never be ready when the time came. The time has come to say our goodbyes.” Tears filled her eyes, I looked to mother who was trying to hold them back; but I knew it was only a matter of seconds. Almost as if on cue, they came. The tears streaming down her face made my heart rip into a million, tiny pieces. Knowing that I couldn’t possibly understand the pain she was going through, so I attempted to comfort her the only way I knew how. Feeling as if I would lose her too, I wrapped my arms tightly around her neck.
After what seemed to be the longest day of my life, my mom, Aunt Tracy, and I went
I can’t tell you how many times Doe Doe asked whose funeral we were at, but it never seemed to become easier to tell her that it was her beloved husband’s. Not only was I not allowed to sit with my parents, but unfortunately I had the chance to sit beside some stuck up distant cousin who didn’t even know Papa. The hardest part of this whole agonizing week was watching Doe Doe's face throughout the funeral realizing over again whose funeral it was. Even though it was one of the hardest days of my life, I saw God that day. Doe Doe was given a moment of needed clarity. As Papa’s casket passed her; she knew, she put her dainty, wrinkly hands on his casket and said, “He was one of the good ones.”
After watching my mother lose one of her parents, it made me realize how much more I appreciate mine. From that day forth, I decided that I would never take the time that I have left with my parents for granted. This week may have been one of the hardest that I’ve ever experienced, but one that I will forever remember, and hold close to my