Thanks for all your support, it means a lot to me. Note: preachers do wear
white robes at funerals, it's supposed to make it a more pleasant
atmosphere. My family member is doing fine. Today is my birthday!!!
SD-The poem For Everything There Is a Season does not belong to me, but to the person it belongs to. CSI doesn't belong to me.
I stopped off at the mall and picked up a black dress. It was pretty but plain, and black. Black, the color of mourning. I took the dress and got into my car, and started to drive.
I arrived just in time for the funeral. I still had not cried or displayed any emotion at all. I walked into the church; it was filled with people. I walked into the church and a poem popped into my head.
For everything there is a season,
I spotted my mother in the first pew. I stood up straighter and joined her. When I sat down next to her, she turned and smiled at me with tears in her eyes; I simply nodded my head to her.
"He did so much," she said under her breath.
"I know," I whispered back soothingly.
And a time for every purpose under the heaven: A time to be born, and a time to die;
"Do you remember when I was sick and he would tend the flowers for me?" my mom asked. I wanted to quiet her because the service was going to start soon.
A time to plant, and a time to pluck what has been planted;
The preacher came out in his white robes; I wanted them to be black. He started the service by greeting everyone, and giving his condolences to his family and friends. Then he recited the same poem.
"For every thing there is a season, and a time for every purpose under the heaven: A time to be born, and a time to die; A time to plant, and a time to pluck what has been planted; A time to kill, and a time to heal; A time to break down, and a time to build up; A time to weep, and a time to laugh; A time to mourn, and a time to dance; A time to cast away stones, and a time to gather the stones together; A time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing; A time to get, and a time to lose; A time to keep, and a time to cast away; A time to rend, and a time to sew; A time to keep silence, and a time to speak; A time to love, and a time to hate; A time of war, and a time of peace."
I wanted to smile, but still no emotions were stirring within me. I continued the service with a stone cold heart and a stone cold face.
As we watched the casket be lowered into the ground, one small, silent tear drifted down my face. I whipped it away quickly and no other followed. After the funeral, my mother gave me a reassuring hug, I got back into my car, and started the drive home, to Vegas. Funny how I consider it my home now.
The entire ride home I spent remembering my father. I wanted to pick up my cell phone and call Grissom, or even better, Catherine, for reassurance; but something in my kept me from doing so.
I reached Vegas in time to go home and have a short three-hour nap before shift started; my leave had just expired. I went into my apartment, and put on something other than the stupid dress, which had been wearing for the past three days. I put on my work clothes, a pair of Jeans and a sleeveless top. After I put the clothes on, I looked around at my clean apartment, and my emotions kicked in.
SD-The poem For Everything There Is a Season does not belong to me, but to the person it belongs to. CSI doesn't belong to me.
I stopped off at the mall and picked up a black dress. It was pretty but plain, and black. Black, the color of mourning. I took the dress and got into my car, and started to drive.
I arrived just in time for the funeral. I still had not cried or displayed any emotion at all. I walked into the church; it was filled with people. I walked into the church and a poem popped into my head.
For everything there is a season,
I spotted my mother in the first pew. I stood up straighter and joined her. When I sat down next to her, she turned and smiled at me with tears in her eyes; I simply nodded my head to her.
"He did so much," she said under her breath.
"I know," I whispered back soothingly.
And a time for every purpose under the heaven: A time to be born, and a time to die;
"Do you remember when I was sick and he would tend the flowers for me?" my mom asked. I wanted to quiet her because the service was going to start soon.
A time to plant, and a time to pluck what has been planted;
The preacher came out in his white robes; I wanted them to be black. He started the service by greeting everyone, and giving his condolences to his family and friends. Then he recited the same poem.
"For every thing there is a season, and a time for every purpose under the heaven: A time to be born, and a time to die; A time to plant, and a time to pluck what has been planted; A time to kill, and a time to heal; A time to break down, and a time to build up; A time to weep, and a time to laugh; A time to mourn, and a time to dance; A time to cast away stones, and a time to gather the stones together; A time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing; A time to get, and a time to lose; A time to keep, and a time to cast away; A time to rend, and a time to sew; A time to keep silence, and a time to speak; A time to love, and a time to hate; A time of war, and a time of peace."
I wanted to smile, but still no emotions were stirring within me. I continued the service with a stone cold heart and a stone cold face.
As we watched the casket be lowered into the ground, one small, silent tear drifted down my face. I whipped it away quickly and no other followed. After the funeral, my mother gave me a reassuring hug, I got back into my car, and started the drive home, to Vegas. Funny how I consider it my home now.
The entire ride home I spent remembering my father. I wanted to pick up my cell phone and call Grissom, or even better, Catherine, for reassurance; but something in my kept me from doing so.
I reached Vegas in time to go home and have a short three-hour nap before shift started; my leave had just expired. I went into my apartment, and put on something other than the stupid dress, which had been wearing for the past three days. I put on my work clothes, a pair of Jeans and a sleeveless top. After I put the clothes on, I looked around at my clean apartment, and my emotions kicked in.