17
Sean
Grief and sweat were not a good combination. I sat in the second pew on the hard wooden bench and resisted the urge to loosen my tie and roll up the sleeves of my white shirt. Niya sat beside me pumping the paper fan with fury. I told her it was better to sit still but she said she wasn’t about to let her makeup run.
Pastor Long apologized for the heat a second time, wiped his face, and continued his eulogy. He had been speaking for about twenty minutes but his words were a blur. My face said I was listening but I would be hard-pressed to repeat anything he said. I was too distracted by Ms. Maizie crying in the pew before me. I wish I had the right words to comfort her. But what could I say when I didn’t understand Simmonds’ senseless death?
I swallowed my tears and looked around the room, listening to the sniffles and seeing the red eyes of many. Ms. Maizie had asked me to say a few words but so far, I had nothing.
Niya dropped the fan. I reached down to retrieve it. “I can do that for you if you need me to,” I whispered to Niya and wiped the sweat beads on the side of her face.
“I’m good,” Niya said, giving me a small smile before turning her attention back to the eulogy. She cocked her head, furrowed her brows, and nodded along while Pastor Long spoke.
I snaked my arm around her waist and scooted her closer to me, needing to make physical contact despite the temperature. I was so grateful to have her here with me. I couldn’t have done this without her. She curved into my arms and I took a deep breath. We fit together like puzzle pieces.
“He’s calling for you,” Niya said, squeezing my hand.
I blinked. Pastor Long had finished?
I stood and hesitated. “Lord, help me,” I prayed.
“Just speak from the heart,” Niya whispered. “You got this.”
I nodded and released her hand before willing my feet to press forward. I gave myself a stern warning not to fall apart and walked up to the podium. I faced the two hundred expectant faces and all the tears I had swallowed rose to the surface. Acting on instinct, I lifted my hand and saluted the casket.
My men stood and joined me as we honored our fallen brother.
After that moment of silence, God poured words into me. I cleared my throat and wiped my face. “No mother is prepared to bury her son. And, I am certainly not prepared to say goodbye to my brother. But God in His infinite wisdom prepared Simmonds to return to Him.” I looked at Ms. Maizie. “Troy placed his life in God’s hands. I was a witness to his transformation. The Simmonds before God was nothing like the Simmonds after God.”
Ms. Maizie nodded. “He sure did change. One hundred percent for the better.”
A few people chuckled despite their grief.
“Our nickname for Simmonds was Sincere.” My voice cracked. “He earned that name because everything Simmonds did, he did from a place of love and sincerity. He was that person who went the extra mile and never complained. He would never find it too hard to help someone.” I let the tears roll down my cheeks. “Even if it meant helping someone who didn’t want that help. Because isn’t that what God did for us?”
Through my blurry eyes, I thought I saw some heads nod. I zoomed in on Niya. “Simmonds is at home with God and I’m proud to have served our country alongside him. He was a fellow shipmate, a friend, but most of all he was saved by the grace of God through Christ. And for that reason, though I grieve,” I gestured to the crowd, “though we all grieve, we can still smile in our hearts.” I looked upward. “I’ll be seeing you, friend.”
I kept my eyes on Niya as I returned to my seat. She thrust tissues in my hand before dabbing at her eyes. “That was beautiful,” she choked out.
I touched her cheek. “You’re beautiful.”
Pastor Long announced it was time for the processional. I led Niya to Ms. Maizie and then went to take my place by the casket. A somber group of us took our friend to his final resting place behind the church. The congregation followed behind with Ms. Maizie surrounded by Niya, the pastor’s wife, and her three sisters. Simmonds would be buried next to his uncle and father.
Emotionally spent after seeing my friend deposited six-feet-under the earth, I massaged my temples.
“Did you eat the banana and granola bar I gave you this morning?” Niya asked.
I shook my head. “I was too worked up to eat. I gave my snack to Strainer.”
“Okay, we can get something at Ms. Maizie’s house,” she said, rubbing my back.
I scrunched my nose. “I’ve got a serious headache. I think I just want to get back to the hotel.”
She cocked her head. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah.” I jutted my jaw at the men surrounding Ms. Maizie. “She’s in good hands. I doubt anyone will notice I’m not there. Besides, we have an early flight tomorrow morning and I did say goodbye to Ms. Maizie.”
“If you’re sure?” she asked.
