The closed coffin was necessary. The doctors were continually giving my mother sedatives. She hardly left her room. Her sisters would go in and lay with her but I had yet to comfort her. I couldn’t. I couldn’t get her screams out of my head and I wanted to stay far away from her pain. If one more person told me they were sorry for my loss, I was going to scream. It was my mother’s loss. She was in so much pain. I still felt nothing. Every hour, I expected Conner to pop up and ask me what the hell was going on. With Niall on my lap and my parents to my left, we watched the funeral staff lower Uncle Conner into the ground. His band members came forward and hugged us. Then they threw guitar picks in the ground with the coffin. I laughed on the inside. Conner would think that was so hysterical. What would a dead person do with a guitar pick? Their sentiment was nice, though. They meant well and I wondered if they would continue to play without him. Probably not.
