Annaka

child. He never spoke about his family, nor did anyone else. When I was a kid, the only extended family who ever came over were great-aunts, uncles, and cousins on Nan’s side. The funeral was full of them. Add to that the large presence of students from Yarmouth High, and it just went to show that he didn’t need blood family to have a large funeral.
Afterwards I found Mom and Nan on a bench by the entrance. Tia’s grandparents, Ben and Lillian, and her parents, Clare and Jonathan, stood close for support.
“How you doing, hon?” Mom asked me.
“As good as I can be, I guess.” I shrugged. “You did great up there.”
She smiled. “Thanks, babes. Have you talked to any of the family?”
“Barely. Everyone here knows me but I barely remember any of them.”
“I know. You haven’t seen most of these people in years. I saw you with Carla, though. She’s going to be coming over later. Did you eat this morning?”
“No. I wasn’t hungry.”
“You should grab a bite to eat,” Lillian said. “There’s tons of food over there.”
I could see Tia standing by the food table and she waved me over. She gave me a big hug and I squeezed her right back.
“How you feeling?” she asked.
“Like I saw a ghost last night.”
She looked at me. “Odd choice of words.”
“I know. I’ll explain later.”
Had Clay actually been waiting for me all those years? I was still spooked from my experience the night before. And what exactly could I say to Tia? Hey, I saw my imaginary friend last night. You know, the one you have a drawing of? It didn’t exactly roll off the tongue.
“You remember Taylor, right?” Tia cut into my thoughts, bringing me back to reality. It was Taylor Bell, one of Tia’s friends growing up. I was glad to see she came.
“Hey, Annaka,” she said. “Good to see you. I’m sorry for your loss—Mr. Brooks helped me out a lot last year with English, I felt honoured to be one of his students.”
She extended both of her hands, and I grabbed hold of them and genuinely thanked her for coming. It was nice to see someone else who I remembered from elementary. I was sure there’d be more, but suddenly, I was more interested in food. I grabbed a plate and surveyed the spread. They had everything from ham to sandwiches, to meatballs.
The rest of the reception was full of warmth. Many folks offered me their condolences. I kept my distance from Nan. I couldn’t bring myself to speak to her and have her think I was a stranger. I felt so awful about it. I also felt bad because I hadn’t called home since last year. Maybe if I had, I could have had a proper goodbye with Nan. But that never happened, and I had to live with that.
I wandered, and finally made my way to Grampy’s urn. I knew I had to; I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself if I didn’t. I lost my breath when I actually saw it, but I knew I had to be brave, just like he would be. Although I was chasing each breath, I knew I had to keep moving. I tried going to a happy place, thinking back to Grampy taking me to the lighthouse while giving me a piggyback, and the way we used to run to the edge of the rocks and see nothing but blue: ocean under sky. We did that every Sunday. Those were memories I wanted to carry in my heart for the rest of my life. When my eyes closed, I was on Grampy’s back, on top of the hill that I pretended was a mountain, and we watched the sky meeting the ocean in a distance that stretched further than I could see. When I opened my eyes, my hand was on the urn that his ashes would be buried in. I know Mom wanted me and everyone there to leave feeling hopeful, but right now, hope felt like a daydream at best.
When things began to wind down, someone collected the urn and everyone made their way towards their vehicles. We were on our way to the burial. I decided to ride with Tia. It was a quiet ride, and I began to feel a hard weight making itself comfortable in my chest. The feelings were beginning to settle in. I just wanted to hug my grandfather again. I just wanted a piggyback. I wanted to hear his voice and I wanted to tell him that I loved him. But I’d never get that chance again.
“You okay, Anna?” Tia asked, her eyes on the road.
“No.” I closed my eyes, wanting to be anywhere else. “No, I’m not.” I could feel my chest tighten as I became short of breath—I was doing my best trying not to cry. The funeral was more than I thought it’d be, and I wanted to just let it out. All of it.
Tia extended a hand and I grabbed hold of it, tight.
“What are you feeling?” Always to the point, Tia.
I shrugged and looked out the window so she wouldn’t see my eyes welling up. “Scared.”
“What are you scared of?” she probed gently.
“Forgetting what his voice sounds like.” Tears rolled down my cheeks.
Tia kept her eyes on the road but I knew she could feel the pain—it was radiating off me. Grieving felt so awkward. Even at the best of times, I couldn’t open up to people. Mom and I only ever talked about school, work…the day-to-day stuff. Never emotions. I didn’t know how to allow myself to be fragile. I guess I kept everything bottled in, like Mom. After all, Tia and I barely even knew each other anymore. We spent a lot of time together as kids, but the years had created so much distance. I wondered if all of that felt uncomfortable to her as well. If it did, she didn’t show it. She just held on to my