Page 111 of My Heart Still Beats
Because he was no longer a human being. He was a corpse.
Just the thought…
Despite looking away at first, Jerry knew exactly what to do. Made me wonder what kind of home he came from.
The victim turned out to be an escaped convict with no family, so no one really mourned his loss.
He disappeared into thin air.
When his photograph showed up on TV, I recognized him.
He wasn’t an it.
He was a man.
A man whose life was cut short.
Largely because of me.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Tessa
Da’s funeral is held in our church—the one made of gray stone that I used to tell Nana looked like a castle.
“In a way, it is,” she told me.
I never asked her why she said that because my first communion was later that day.
I didn’t talk to Nana about the saints much after that.
She’d often ask if I wanted to sit with her at her altar, the way I used to, and pray to the saints and to the Blessed Mother, but I always said no.
Something held me back after my first communion.
Now I know what it was.
How had I blanked the altercation with the altar boy out of my mind? I haven’t had a chance to talk to my therapist about it. I’ve been busy dealing with Dad’s passing.
Our next session will be a big one.
Mom, Eva, and I sit in the front pew along with Dad’s brother, Uncle Josh, and Mom’s two siblings, Uncle Miggie and Aunt Lily. In my hand, I clutch a small silk bag holding the pearl from the night Ben and I ate at Union Oyster House. Somehow, it helps.
I don’t want to look at the black lacquer casket covered with the white pall and sitting near the altar, but I can’t force my gaze away. Da is in that coffin. My da.
Exceptnotmy da.
Only his body.
His body that’s been filled with embalming fluid and dressed in his Sunday best.
I swallow back the nausea.
I nearly lost it during the entrance procession. Why a Catholic funeral has to be such an event is beyond me. I need to say goodbye in my own way.
The priest, Father Johnson, offers scriptural readings and prayers and then gives a short homily about my father. For the first time in forever, I listen to the words spoken in a church.
“We gather here today to remember and celebrate the life of Daniel Logan, devoted husband to Carlotta, loving father to Teresa and Eva, and brother to Joshua. When we mourn the loss of a loved one, it is our faith that provides solace and guidance. Dan’s life was a demonstration of the strength of his faith, and his journey was marked by love, devotion, and unwavering belief in the teachings of our Lord.”
