The day was clear.
We walked into the sanctuary.
My brother didn’t let a single tear
Slip down his cheeks. He struggled
With emotions like that.
My family sat. The seats were familiar
Of regular Sunday services, but
This was different now. Much different.
They weren’t as cushy. The wood
Seemed stiff and chill against my back.
The air seeped in thickly and the sniffles
Could’ve formed an a cappella of lament.
I read the “In Memory of…” as his family
Got up to recount stories about his life.
My mom was struggling to hold
Everything in. It had only been
Six months since Uncle Tucker.
My brother’s childhood friend
Was gone, so my mom reflected.
I gazed at my brother.
I could see it in him, I could.
But, he didn’t cry.
⌊ © Serena Delgado (June, 2018) ⌉
⌊ Photograph by Serena Delgado (June, 2018) ⌉