When I woke up on Wednesday morning, my mom told me the devastating news of someone passing away that we knew. I was 17 years old. My 15 year old sister, Tara, knew Mr. Joe more than me because he was the father of my sister’s best friends, Sophie. She was stunned by the news my mom gave us. At 2 am, Mr. Joe died of colon cancer after being diagnosed almost year and a half earlier. Over that time period, I had heard several questionable decisions that he did while he was sick, such as, refusing to go on chemotherapy, traveling to Ireland without his doctors approval, and ignoring his kids at times. Partly, I don’t completely blame him, He was a good man.

I was told by my mom on Friday, that on Sunday there will be a wake and funeral held for him. My heart sank when I was told this because I have never been to a wake, not even to a wake of a person I knew. The weekend leading up to the wake I was anxious. I was anxious because I wasn’t comfortable dealing with a loss of people I knew. Especially since he was in an open casket. On Sunday, I woke up, went for a shower, and put on my striped blue and red shirt, dark blue jeans, and shiny black dress shoes and waited downstairs patiently and worried until we were all ready to leave. My whole family including my sister, Tara and her friend who was coming along with us hopped into our car. My mom asked,

“Brian, what's wrong?”

“Nothing.”

I said hesitantly. She asked again, “What's wrong?”

“I’ve never been to a wake before and I am terrified on what it’s going to be like.”

She said, “You will be fine.”

But was I going to be fine? How will I react? I don’t even know what he looks like. He has changed so much in almost two years.

We arrived at the funeral home in Park Ridge, a middle to upper-class suburb 16 miles north-west of Chicago that doesn’t have many lower-class working people. I could tell my family wasn’t too enthusiastic about it as well. When we walked inside, I saw a few people were walking out with tears in their eyes. This isn’t good I said to myself gulping down saliva. I felt the tension rising the closer I got to the room. As soon as we walked in, I felt a wave of grief walk across my face. This was not at all what I thought it would ever feel like. I was very frightened to see what he would look like, given that I hadn’t seen him in a year and a half and he had lost a third of his body weight. When I walked up to him, laying with beautiful flowers around his casket, I couldn’t recognize him. It was frightening enough not being able to recognize someone you have known for almost your whole childhood. I thought it was a mistake. I thought I was at a stranger’s wake.

My sister and I said some prayers. I noticed my sister wasn’t able to keep her composure, sobbing buckets for the whole time.

I didn’t blame her.

After we were finished praying, we went over to the family, greeted them and told them how sorry we were for their loss. After everybody was done, Sophie came over to Tara and her friend group grieving uncontrollably. I had to look away, I didn’t realize how easy it could be to cry. This was one of the biggest reasons why I was scared of coming along : fear

We sat down for a little longer and I struck up various conversations with some people. There was food downstairs, so I decided to get a bite to eat. The lounge had sandwiches, wraps, dessert such as cookies, cheesecake, and cupcakes. I was relieved to finally get the hard part over with.

Although death is a part of life, it can be really heartbreaking to the people that have lost family members. Once I said goodbye to everyone when I was finished, I decided to walk home.

While I was walking I felt extremely proud of myself because of the fears I learned to face and to attend the wake instead of staying at home. At first, when I found out that there was a wake, I was scared and was worried; but, I decided to man-up and attend the wake without complaining. This action helped me overcome new problems in my life, easing the stress that was on my shoulders. It was a new experience and I learned a lot from it, especially to face my fears without shying away. Once I got home, I was curious on what the funeral was going to be like. The next day, when I woke up on Thursday morning, my mom told me to get dressed and ready for the funeral. More confidently than usual, I got dressed in a white shirt black tie, slacks, and my same black dress shoes and waited attentively downstairs. Once we all loaded into our car I wasn’t frightened anymore, I learned that everything that happens will be alright and not to constantly be worried about new experiences.

We followed the hearse all the way to the church, The mass for Mr. Joe was much more peaceful than everyone thought. There were beautiful flowers everywhere decorated perfectly. I realized death shouldn’t be a topic to be frightened about anymore and even though we are losing someone that we care about, no matter what we will have them in our hearts.