Page 54 of Aftershock

My mom interrupted him. “Let her finish,” she demanded.

With a slow downward turn of his head, the pastor remained silent.

Biting my lower lip, I continued on with my speech. “Sometimes calling you a father doesn't even feel right. I don’t think you even knew what being a father really meant. For so long, I thought you broke our family apart, but today, I realized I have all the family I need here with me.” My mom brought her hand up to her chest and laid her palm over her heart. I did the same. “You wanted to be alone so bad…well, you got your wish. You pushed everyone away so well that no one even bothered to show up to your funeral. Don’t worry, though; I’m here. Not because I want to reminisce or mourn your passing, but because I need to tell you something. I don’t need you, and I never have. All the love I need is right here in front of me.” I smiled down at my mother. “Goodbye, dad. See you never,” I chuckled dryly.

I walked away from the stage and back toward the pews. I didn’t get the chance to sit back down because, as soon as I got to the bench, my mother enveloped me in a hug. She wasn’t mad at my words, for the same reason I wasn't mad at hers. We said what we needed to say because she was right in what she had told me earlier—funerals were for the living, not the dead. If this was what it took to move on, then that’s all that mattered. People often said not to speak ill of the dead, but those people hadn’t met my father. Not everything needed to be romanticized.

What good did lying to not only yourself but also everyone else do? Who did it benefit? No one.

After pulling away from the hug, we both sat back down. I felt Lexi intertwine our fingers.

“Are you okay?” She asked.

“Yeah, I really think I am.”

Our attention was back on the pastor when he began to stutter, “Um, oh-okay…” He fidgeted with his robe in an attempt not to appear so disheveled. “And young lady, I’m afraid I don't know your name, but if you would like to come up and say a few words, now is the time.”

My mom and I paused, then turned toward each other while shaking our heads. We both blurted out,

“Umm, she’s not—”

“Uh, I don’t think—”

Lexi stood swiftly and answered, “I’d love to.” This caused my mom and I to stare at each other in confusion. Lexi walked over to the pastor. He looked like he was about to faint after hearing all the things we had revealed earlier. I take it he had no idea what kind of man he would be speaking about at today's memorial service. “Michael,” Lexi cleared her throat while glancing at the pastor, “How dare you intentionally light my house on fire and kill my cat?” The pastor all but lost his shit when Lexi spoke. His eyes became wide, practically bulging out of his head, as he let a quiet, high-pitched squeak escape from his lips. I slapped my thighs while expelling a loud laugh, and my mom covered her mouth with her hand, trying to suppress hers. Lexi cracked a smile, then continued, “But no, in all honesty, I know what it’s like to have a complicated relationship with your father, but Michael, you really missed out on getting to know Autumn. She is by far one of the strongest and most amazing people I have had the pleasure of meeting. I didn’t know you well, or, for that matter, at all, really, but I still want to thank you. Your daughter is such a great person, and for some reason, I think that is because you didn’t raise her. So, fuck you for abandoning her, but thank you for making sure she turned out nothing like you.”

Lexi was courageous. I would never get up at a stranger's funeral and say what was on my mind, but I was glad she felt like she could. Even before meeting her, I knew she always said what she was thinking, and I was someone who tried to live by the same sentiment. Maybe I learned that by listening to her music. What she said up there at the podium only made me more sure that I had made the right choice in sharing my story with her.

“Thank you,” I mouthed silently to her.

Acceptance

I honestly had no idea what to expect when I walked into the airport on the day of my father’s funeral, but if I had to guess, I never would’ve thought any of what happened was true. That wasn’t a bad thing, though. Sometimes, the best stories were the ones we could never predict. Normally, people didn’t experience earthquakes if they lived in New York. Normally, people didn’t become trapped in bathrooms with their celebrity crushes. Normally, people didn’t share life stories or similar experiences with strangers. Normally, people didn’t get offered a ride with said stranger when they missed their flight. Normally, people didn’t invite someone they’d only known for eight hours to attend their father's funeral. Normally, people didn’t find love when they had stopped believing it existed. Against all the odds, somehow, all of those things happened to me. It went against every logical and statistical probability that defined normal life experiences.

But my life had never been normal.

Everything had changed so much within twenty-four hours and just to think it was all because of an earthquake.

A lot of people compared natural disasters to catastrophic, world ending events, and I couldn’t deny that were dangerous…but sometimes they could also create a second chance. Sometimes, these disasters worked as a sort of wake-up call. Generally, on the less severe side of things, earthquakes caused people to feel unsteady, and no one liked to lack stability, but for me, an earthquake was exactly what I needed to find my center of gravity. Somehow, it helped me find balance.

Snapping back into reality, I pushed myself off of the bench and ran towards the podium. Lexi didn’t have time to react before I tackled her in a hug.

“Thank you for being here for me,” I expressed solemnly, my mouth buried against her shoulder.

“Always, Autumn. Always,” she promised while stroking my hair.

The pastor then cleared his throat, prompting us to break apart from each other. “If that is all, you may take your seats.” He motioned back towards the pews. “And I see we have two more guests that have arrived. I hesitate to ask, but would either of you like to say anything today?”

I turned towards the main congregation area to see who he was referring to. To my surprise, Andrew and Brian had come inside and sat in one of the pews situated at the back of the church.

“No, they are good,” Lexi replied for both of them.

“Good,” the pastor breathed out before realizing what he had said. “I mean very well then.”

Lexi and I exchanged glances as we snickered while walking back to our seats.

My mom then tipped her head in our direction and whispered, “I think we broke him.”

All of us then turned to stare at him, watching as he wiped his forehead, which was at this point drenched in sweat. Then, the three of us began chuckling as the pastor obliviously continued preaching and talking of heaven. I was so worried about this funeral earlier, but now I felt so at peace. I was glad I didn’t chicken out like I had wanted to.

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