Where We Go | Book Three

33. Fresh Perspective

My breath caught when Lucy pulled at the door. The warm sun streamed through the stained glass decorating the interior walls with rainbow colours. I could've been standing in a painting and been blissfully unaware. The pews were filled shoulder to shoulder with people, young and old. Each of them paid close attention to the man who stood at the front of the room.

"We have to be strong," Simon spoke. He wore dark clothing and held himself taller, holding the attention of the room.

The service was in full swing by the time we stepped inside and slipped into the nearest empty seats. A few heads turned to the interruption but most of them barely paid any attention to our late arrival.

"We are at a time where real monsters live among us," he continued, "and we, all of us, are choosing to stick around and fight for what we know. Fight for our homes. Fight for our loved ones..."

Ben rested a hand against my leg and rubbed his thumb gently.

"I don't know about everyone else but I'm finding grief to be the most uncomfortable part of this experience," his eyes wandered the room, brushing over the three of us at the back. "Because it is... Grief is difficult, it's painful. Especially when everyone around us is handling it so differently." A small smile graced Simon's lips and he made eye contact with a woman in the crowd. "Do you find that strange too?" he asked her. 

She nodded her head in agreement. 

"Yes, see? Good to know I'm not speaking for only myself here." 

A few laughs graced the audience before he carried on. I turned my head and caught Ben rolling his eyes. 

"There will be some of you in this room who handle it well... Maybe you'll dwell on it for a few days, then you'll be back out there doing your normal routine. Then there will be others, maybe a few, maybe a lot of you, who find that grief comes with this deep pit, this sunken hole that you just can't crawl out of... And you'll look around and wonder 'How are they dealing with it so well?', you know? 'Why can't I move on?'." Simon took a moment, exhaling a deep breath. "And I'm afraid I can't answer that for you... But even in those moments, you must remind yourself to be present. Know that thinking about the past isn't a bad thing. Memories are allowed to be painful. They're allowed to hurt. Sometimes it feels good when they do. We shouldn't have to feel like we need to move on," he said. "God watches down on all of us. He has a plan..." he paused and smirked. "Even I'll admit this plan seems more of a challenge than anything else." 

A few laughs came from the crowd again. 

"But it wouldn't have happened unless he knew we could handle it. That we are capable of what comes next... These people we've lost are still a part of us. They've made us stronger. They've made us who we are... And it makes us feel safe to know that we can still think about them and remember them as if they were still here..." 

He began to pace at the front of the room, eyeing up audience members. He pointed a finger at another. 

"You," he said. "If you feel comfortable enough, I want you to tell me who the last person you lost was."

The man hesitated. "My sister," he said quietly.

"Your sister," Simon repeated louder for the rest of us. "And do you still think about her?" he asked.

The man in the crowd nodded. "Every day."

"Every day," Simon repeated. "Of course you do. Because you want to still remember her. You want to feel like she's not lost... God places her in your memories to remind you she is still here and she's with you on this next step of your journey." He turned to another member of the crowd who seemed to be lapping up his every word. "You, my dear," he said, pointing to her. "Who have you lost?"