Burning Grief

Another World

“I look for you in the light, and I am never cold. I look for you in the dark, and I am never scared. I look for you in the way my coffee is cold, and it is never bitter. I look for you in the way my blood is red, and I never question where you went. I look for you, and there you are. You have passed. You have left grief behind. But you have not left us. Not truly.”

Papers rustled, but otherwise, silence filled the hall. Tears spilled down a dozen faces, none more so than the woman who sat at the front pew. Her blonde hair covered her face, but her back was shaking with emotion. The man next to her ran one hand along her back while the other gripped his knee so tight his knuckles were white.

The man behind the podium continued speaking, his green eyes glistening as he fought his own sobs. His voice wavered with every breath, but he continued.

He knew she would have continued.

“Without you, I am listless. I am desperate. I am wanting. Your fire brought warmth to our home. Your love brought me security. I took every ounce of affection you gave me greedily –as if I could not breathe without it. And I am glad I loved you just as fiercely. Because now, though I love you as heartily as ever, you have gone to where my love cannot reach you.”

Another sob broke through the eulogy, but again. He continued.

“Yet, still, I will give you my love. Every ounce. Every gram. You are the love of my life. I love you more than any in the history of man. I loved you through the worst of our time together –when you burned the midnight oil for weeks on end, and I traveled the Domes. When our love required work. I loved you then, and I will love you now. This is not goodbye. This is until the day we meet again.”

Closing his notebook, the man nodded at all who had gathered today. For her. For the woman he had loved. For the woman he had lost. The woman they had all lost.

“Thank you all for coming. For remembering her. If anyone else would like to say anything, feel free to come up and speak.”

As he slid into the front pew, right beside the blonde woman, she reached for his hands and gripped him with everything she had.

“Oh, Emmett,” she whispered, her voice cracking with emotion, “She would hate this. How horrible we all feel. How broken we are.”

Emmett leaned into the woman, who was his mother in all but blood, “She’d understand. You know she would. She’d give us this time if nothing else.”

“Magda, breathe,” the other man opposite Emmett said soothingly, “Our girl would want us to mourn her properly.”

Magda did as she was told and took a deep breath, steadying herself, just as another voice filled the hall. The three closest to the deceased looked up to the podium, where a beautiful brunette stood. The woman’s makeup was running, and she’d already started her speech.

“She was more than a friend, more than a sister. She was my other half. The one who mended my broken heart a hundred times over. My dear, I miss you. I miss you, and I cannot breathe. I miss you, and I cannot sleep. Of all the people to be taken, it was unjust that it was you. Wherever you have gone, I hope you are happy beyond belief. I hope the stories of old are true. That there is a heaven –a place where you can rest your feet. And if there is not, if this is all there is, I am grateful it was you I met all those years ago. You had a burning passion for everything you did. And now you’ve left a burning grief in your wake.”

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Next came a coworker, and then another friend, and then a cousin. Then, another stepped up. And another. By the end of it, there were eight people who spoke. All were fighting their cracked voices and wet eyes. The funeral hall emptied quickly after the alderman gave his closing remarks. There was no reason to linger when the body was already far outside the Dome. Cast out to the eternal graveyard. All that would remain of her would be an engraving at the base of the Dome for those who held her precious to visit.

The reception was held on the rooftop of the tallest building in the Berlin Dome, three hundred eighteen stories in the air. You could see the arch of the glass above the building. Occasionally, the clouds would break around the Dome to give way to the sights outside. It was not a good omen when such a thing happened. To see the ruined world around the Dome was unlucky. The day of the reception was one such day where old Berlin was visible over the canopy of trees and glass. The Dome had been built a mere twenty miles from the skeleton that was once a spirited city.

“It’s horrible,” Magda said under her breath, her eyes locking onto the ruins on the horizon. Beside her, her husband was downing another drink, and her never-to-be-son-in-law was scanning the crowd that had gathered to celebrate his late fiancee’s life. Pain radiated from all three of them, their misery palpable in the afternoon light. There was no hiding from their grief here.

Life would never be the same again.

“Everything is,” Emmett retorted as he turned to face Magda, wrapping his arm around her shoulders.

“Conrad,” Magda sighed, “Come here.”

Immediately, Conrad wrapped his arm around her other side and leaned his face into Magda’s hair. She could smell the alcohol on him, but she wouldn’t begrudge him that –not today of all days.

“What comes next?” He mumbled.

Emmett let out a choked breath, and Magda straightened her back. Wiping the tears from her eyes, she hardened her expression. Suddenly, the Magda who smiled too sharp, the Magda who destroyed careers and built fortunes, the Magda who loved her daughter so completely, she was back. And she was strong.

“We do what we have always done, boys. We steel our spines, we grit our teeth. We do not falter –not for any longer. We have laid her to rest, but she would never forgive us if we did so to ourselves. So, we’ll persevere.”

Magda snapped her fingers, and sparks alighted. The three of them stared at the light for a long, uninterrupted moment. Around them, music played, and chatter rolled from the rooftop. But they were still, silent.

Then they separated, Conrad shaking his shoulders and Emmett rubbing his neck.

Emmett nodded decisively, “You’re right. It’s what she had always done. No matter the obstacle. No matter the enemy. She did as you said —she let herself fall, but she always stood back up.”

Conrad ran his hand across his chin, “My girl. She was the best of us. There was nothing she couldn’t overcome.”

With measured movements, Conrad put down the glass in his hand and cracked his knuckles. He did as Magda did —standing upright, solidifying his shoulders, and settling his anxiety.

“All right. For my little girl. I can be put together for my baby’s memory.”

The three of them turned away from the horizon, burying their grief and their anger and their uncertainty.

Emmett, who had no family, had taken to Conrad and Magda long ago. Conrad and Magda, who may no longer have a daughter, would not be forsaking the son they almost had. They were intertwined. An invisible string would forever tie them together. Magda, who treated her daughter's success as her own, would throw herself into Emmett. Conrad, who spent his life cheering on the light of his life, would channel that to the man he would call son.

They would be okay.

They had to be.

The woman they lost wouldn’t want anything less for them.