Death is a funny thing. Well, it's not really funny. Ugh, just- you know what I mean. I died when I was nineteen. Nineteen years, three months, and fifteen days is all the time I spent on Earth, and somehow it was enough.
It wasn't enough in that I wish I could've spent more time with my mom, and I wish I could've gone to more football games with my stepdad, and I know me and my brother would have been the best and most glaringly opposite lifelong friends.
It wasn't enough in that I didn't get to marry the one person whom I loved above all else. And it wasn't enough that I made her cry like that.
I wish I had never made her cry like that.
My life was enough in that whatever I was given was a gift. I loved every person I ever met regardless of their feelings towards me because I knew that they taught me something invaluable. To know the people I knew and to do the things I did was super awesome. You'll have to excuse me, after being gone sixty years you'd think I'd grow out of certain lingo but hey, I am who I am. And sometimes I'm just a normal dude. That's what I like to pride myself on anyway.
But really, the point here is to tell you that you don't have to be sad for the dead. You can be sad for yourselves, for sure. You miss the people you've lost and you miss them terribly and that is something to lament. But us here? We're happy. We're at peace. This is the real life, one that you cannot grasp or understand yet. But it is good. Trust me, it is only good. So don't cry any more for me, but you can always cry for you.
And don't let anyone tell you you can't.
And know we don't miss you.
Wait—that sounds harsh. It's not that we don't miss you. It's that we've never left you! How blind we are as humans! You see, nothing in life is coincidence. All you need to do is look for me. I am there. Your feelings aren't wrong or stupid. Your feelings are otherworldly—the gut knows things the brain is too proud to admit.
So know this. All your life I have looked after you. From the moment you were conceived to this very moment I'm revealing myself to you. You have been my special case, my reason, your mother's only prayer to me that I could answer.
You have been my child, too.
The one I wish we could have had together.
So, when you lay your mother to rest tomorrow I need you to know that you shouldn't be sad for her. I'm answering her prayers and yours. We're together again.
And Grace, she is so beautiful.
Radiant, actually.
I love her so. And we love you so. And tell your father that there's no hard feelings.
Well… maybe at first.
But I want you to tell him thank you. For being there for her when I couldn't be and for returning her to me so graciously. And for giving her a child as beautiful and wonderful as you.
You're a gift, Grace. By your very name. A gift.
Hey, remember that time you fell off of your bike and hit your head when you were a kid?
I know you saw me.
It was me who lifted you out of the road before that truck came.
Sorry for the whole thing where everyone thought you were a little crazy for telling them that.
It was the first real time I ever had to protect you and I freaked out a little. But you were resilient. Just like your mom. And a real trip, too. You never let me rest since that day, did you?
But, these are my parting words to you sweet Grace. Because I am going to do what you've asked of me and I am going to try and do it as best as I can.
To live the life with your mother that we didn't get a chance to live.
Grace, I'm going to make it wonderful. Beyond anything she could even imagine.
Better than Broadway.
…or close to it.
And when it's your time, Grace, which it won't be for a very long time, you'll be with us once again.
And everything will be as it should.
But for now, Grace, take care of your father. Take care of your husband and your children and your Uncles Kurt and Blaine, and your mother's friends.
Because, Boy, is she a loss.
I'm glad I didn't have to experience that. The one good thing about being the one to die first.
Oh and Grace—
You're right. We're young. Like super young and amazingly good looking. I'm talking like twenty five year old prime.
And your mother is even rocking her knee socks for me.
Sorry, she just told me that's TMI.
And that she loves you.
Always.
Grace, I have to go now.
Be good. Be loud. Be you.
We love you.
Forever.
"Are you ready to go, Daddy?" She asked as her father lay a stone on top of her mother's grave.
He hung his heavy, elderly shoulders and sighed, giving her a warm smile.
"I'm not sad for her, you know. It's selfish, but I'm sad for me." He admitted, eyes wandering to his grandchildren playing a few feet away.
"It's not selfish, Dad. It's human." She linked her arm in his and reached up on her tip toes to place a kiss on his cheek.
"I just know that she's with him. I can't explain it, I just do. And I'm over the moon about it. Is that strange?"
She shook her head, smiling in spite of herself.
"No, it's not weird. I feel the same way. Actually, I know you're right."
He looked over at his brunette beauty, spitting image of her mother. It made his heart hurt.
"How do you know I'm right, Gracie?"
She laughed a little, "I have friends in high places."
He studied his daughter for a moment and suddenly the confusion subsided.
He knew just what she meant.
He looked up at the sky and mouthed a "Thank you," Before reading at his wife's grave one last time.
Rachel Berry Evans
Our Shining Star
Beloved Wife, Mother, and Friend
1994-2073