Frank

I can't believe it's been five days since you've been gone. Every morning I've waken up thinking that the previous days have been a dream but unfortunately I'm not that lucky.

Today was the funeral. It was an honorable tribute to you, both mom and Nancy made sure of that, and more people than I could have ever imagined showed up to pay their respect. Who would have known that you touched that many people in your short 29 years.

Nan finally lost it. I was beginning to get uneasy about her keeping it all bottled up because it seemed inhuman. The past few days have been rough on everyone, but she was the one who had kept us sane. She took care of arranging the whole funeral when it became too much for mom. She put up tons of friends and family in your house. She took to reminding all of us about the happy times when ever the mood became too somber for her tastes. She was a shoulder for everyone and not once in this entire time had she taken a minute for herself.

This morning, as we were waiting for the limo to arrive to take us to the church, she admitted to me that she hadn't cried. She said that she had wanted to, that she had tried multiple times, but she just couldn't. She was angry with herself that she couldn't seem to properly mourn your death. It scared her to think that maybe she hadn't loved you as much as she thought, but I quickly dispelled those doubts. I assured her that that wasn't possible, though at the time I will admit that even I was beginning to have my own concerns.

Like I had said earlier, the funeral went off without a problem. Chet, Biff, Tony, Phil, Con Riley, and I were your pallbearers. There were plenty of people who wanted to do it, but the six of us, once banned together, were the only ones who felt worthy enough. Many people stood to say something about you and I get the feeling that we could have sat in that church for days listening to stories about how great a man you were. There wasn't a dry eye in the church, except for Nancy. She sat in the front row, looking straight ahead the entire time, never once allowing emotion to flicker across her face. It wasn't until later that she gave in.

We were in the cemetery, just the family-mom, dad, Nancy and I. That was Nancy's doing. She had wanted everyone to attend the memorial, but at the gravesite it was to be more intimate for that final goodbye. We'd all had our chance to whisper last words of farewell, and they were getting ready to lower you into the ground, when she snapped.

She flung herself on your coffin and started weeping harder then I thought humanely possible. Her cries of devote love mixed with her cursing toward God echoed through the yard, and soon became too much for mom to handle. Dad led her back to the limo, leaving me to deal with your wife. Now I was scared.

Frank, I know that I kept complaining that she wasn't crying before all this, but now I wish I could take all that back. I wasn't prepared to see her like this. Here lay a broken mold of the woman I knew. She was grasping the polished wood like it was a life preserver and who knows, maybe it was. Though she would never admit it aloud, you were her savior, her white knight, and I think it terrified her to know that you were no longer going to be by her side. The reality of the situation had finally registered with her.

It killed me to have to pull her away from you and, trust me, it killed her too. She fought me with everything in her, but I eventually succeeded. The two of us collapsed a few feet away and she allowed me to hold her as the sobs racked her body.

Big brother, I'm terrified and I don't know what to do. It's now been almost 9 hours since her initial breakdown and she hasn't stopped crying. When we returned to the house she walked past all the guests who were there to give condolences and barricaded herself in the office you guys shared. A few friends and family members tried to go in there to check on her, but unfortunately for them, you and Nan owned a library of books. It seems that I'm the only one who can enter without the risk of getting a concussion.

I need you Frank. I'm not equipped to handle this. I'm sure you think that I am since I've dealt with losing a loved one before, but this isn't the same. My love for Iola in no way compares to what you and Nancy had. Your marriage was the stuff that dreams are made out of. The two of you were soul mates and the great tragedy is that you will never get to finish the fairy tale. There will never be a happily ever after.

Joe