Wake Story

Hands shaking on the steering wheel and loud wind blowing the trees on a dark cloudy afternoon. Shivering from the cold weather or from the nervousness.

Turn on the radio to a random station to calm me down. Then I begin to start a conversation to my sister. Maybe it will calm me down a bit. She starts talking but I’m not listening to anything she’s saying. My mind is wandering on accepting the reality of life.

I slowly press the brakes as the car comes to a red light. From here I could see the funeral home. All I thought about is how Sierra, my best friend since middle school, is feeling. My heart begins to beat against my chest as if it were thrashing its way out. The car behind me honks at me, letting me know that the light is green.

Pull up to the funeral home parking lot. It seems a little vacant, which concerns me a bit. Maybe some people couldn’t attend because of work or something. Hopefully some people will show up to pay their respect and condolences.

I get out of my car. The wind blows my long coat as I head towards the entrance. I stop within a couple of feet away and turn towards my sister.

“Kayla, I’m nervous, sad, scared- I’m just a ball of emotions right now,” I said to her.

“Don’t be. Just stay strong for Sierra and you’ll be fine,” she says.

We continue to walk towards the two gentlemen, who are in suits, opening the door and telling us where to go.

As we walk into the hallway, I notice the name above on the wall. Francis J. “Frank” Adomiak. Right below of it is a little podium with a guestbook. Next to it, is a little card with a picture of Frank. I pick one up. My hands trembling while I stare at the picture.

My hand covers my mouth as tears begin to roll down my cheeks.

“I don’t think I could go inside. Oh my. I feel bad for Sierra. Oh my god I can’t Kayla. She’s all alone.”

My sister grabs me as I dig in my coat for a napkin.

“Christian stop. You’re going to make me cry,” she says.

I wipe my tears. Then I head into the room and the first thing I saw was the back of Sierras head. She turns around slowly like if someone told her that I’m here. I walk towards her and I begin to cry hysterically.

Hugging her while I sob. Didn’t let go for a couple of minutes. I’m trying to apologize to her about the loss of her grandfather but my voice is to weak. I feel like someone’s hands is choking me, preventing me from talking.

I continue to apologize and ask her multiple of questions. Where are you staying at? When are you leaving your apartment? Are you ok? Do you need me to do anything for you?

Tears slowly fall from her cheeks. She says fine and that she will be going to Romero’s house. Oh Sierra, you must be really strong for answering without breaking down.

I look towards my right and saw Frank lying inside his open casket. An American flag covering half of his casket. I thought to myself, ‘Oh Frank, why’d you have to leave Sierra alone so soon?’

Sierra is one of my best friends. I’ve known her for 10 years. She knows about 96 percent of my life; I tell her everything. From random useless information, to my personal life problems. Heck, I even told her if I ever get married that she will be my maid of honor.

Unfortunately, both of her grandparents have both passed away within a year. She’s now left alone with her cat in her grandparent’s house. Luckily she has many close friends that support her.

As I sit there and just take in the reality of the loss of her grandfather, all I can think about is my mother. In a way it felt like I was attending my grandparents wakes. Both Sierra and my mom are alike in many ways than I have realize.

Their grandparents raised both, my mom and Sierra, at a young age. Sierra on the other hand, knew both of her parents. Sadly her mother had died when she was very little. Luckily her dad is still living but was given to her grandparents. My mom doesn’t know her real parents; when she was born, she was given away to her mother’s parents. So, my mother’s grandparents raised her.

They both have family around, but aren’t that close with them at all. Hence the vacant parking lot, in which I feel terribly about because they have no one to call a “real family.” They don’t have a relative to call and wish them happy holidays but they do have close friends.

My mom has lost her grandmother a couple of years ago and also too lost her grandfather this past year. Regretfully, she was not able to say her final goodbyes to them. Now she has no one to talk to back in Mexico, with an exception of a couple cousins, aunts and uncles.

Throughout the wake, all I can think about is my mom how she’s a lone with no one close by like Sierra. How both of their grandparents raised them at a young age into independent mature adults. It’s such a huge inspiration how both of them as females are mentally and emotionally strong enough to not shed a tear. Unlike me, a man, cry likes a baby when someone brings up the passing of them.

Now their grandparents are watching both of these strong women upon up in the heavens. Where they can rest in peace. Bless their souls.