The only time I have ever set foot in a Catholic church
Was for a funeral.
I think I will avoid them for the rest of my life.

I got an emergency call a week and a day before.
"Would you like to babysit with me?"
It was from our family friend.
The pastor's child, a rowdy toddler,
Was in our care for the next several hours.

Our pastor had to go to the hospital.
I learned from our friend that a church member was not doing well.
She had been holding on for so long
And leukemia began to take its inevitable toll
On her physical state of being.

This was the morning of the day
That my friend's mother
Who I had known since infancy
Who was beautiful in every sense of the word
Was taken prematurely from this world.

This was September 14th, 2013.

Flash forward two days.
I was already a mess,
Already deteriorated
Mentally and physically.
I see statuses on social network sites
Things like, "Rest in peace, buddy."
And "It was so great to work with you."
But all without a name or a face.

I knew something was wrong.

A friend of mine had not returned from his break the day before,
That was all I knew.
And yet for some reason my gut seemed to scream,
"Suicide."
Even though it was the last person who I thought would ever do it.

Why was the word resounding in my brain?

It got louder with every step I took towards my phone.
Louder with every click of the keys as I texted a friend and asked,
"Was it him?"
And she responded a solemn,
"Yes."
And then I asked, even though I suspected,
"How?"
And she confirmed my suspicions.

Suddenly, hearing it made all the difference.
Suddenly, I could not see through tear-clouded eyes.
Suddenly, my face was hot and I was dizzy.
Suddenly, I could not breathe,
As it felt like a fist was being shoved down my throat.
I fell to my knees and screamed.

This was September 18th, 2013.

I was not allowed to attend this church member's funeral,
For my parents thought it would be too much for me.
The wake was the day I found out about my coworker
And the funeral, the day after.
While I understand their motives,
I still lack a little bit of closure.

I came into school the following Monday,
All dressed up and decked out.
I have always wondered about the irony of funerals.
I have accepted that dressing up
Is to honor his life.
But if so, why in all black?
With his whimsical personality,
I doubt it's the attire he would have chosen.

I will never understand how one can eat on this occasion.
I ate half a cookie, just to be social,
And felt as though I would *****.
My stomach was in knots upon knots.

Well, I could go on and on
About how these events have affected my daily life since.
But I'll spare you the gory details.

I hope you two are resting easy up there,
And I hope you have gotten a chance to meet upon admission.

You would like each other.