Chapter Thirty-Two
Funeral
The good part about being home for another week was that I was able to spend more time with Charlie. He had just started his sixth semester at APU. He drove to Burbank to see me, and we had a picnic at my favorite park.
“I got a phone call today,” he said. “One of my friends from high school was in a car accident. She was thrown out of the car, and she didn’t make it. Her name was Rae. Did I ever tell you about her? We were pretty good friends. We went to Winter Ball together.” His voice was shaky.
“I’m so sorry,” I said.
“Her mom called me today and asked if I would speak at her memorial service. But I don’t know what I would say.”
“You should do it. If her family wants you to, you should do it.”
“I’m considering using the story of Elisha and Elijah. I thought I might talk about losing a friend but gaining a portion of his spirit.”
Charlie opened up his Bible to II Kings and showed me the passage where Elijah is taken up to heaven.
“I think it’s perfect,” I said.
“Will you go with me? It’s going to be one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do. I want to be able to look out into the crowd and see your face.”
“Of course I’ll go.”
I didn’t know anyone at the funeral except for Charlie’s dad and stepmom, so I sat with them. Charlie sat in the front row and led the crowd—which was overflowing the sanctuary—in song, prayer, and a moment of silence. After giving the family members a chance to speak, Charlie got up and shared the story of Elisha and Elijah. Then he talked about Rae’s spirit and how he wanted to ask God for a double portion of her joyful spirit. Everyone in the room was crying.
At the reception Rae’s mom called Charlie aside.
“Follow me,” she said, and she led us inside her house.
She brought us to Rae’s room and dug through a box of photos.
“Here it is,” she said. “Charlie, this is for you.” It was a framed picture of him and Rae at Winter Ball. Rae was a tall, beautiful brunette with a smile like Julia Roberts.
“Thank you,” he said. “This is really special.”
Her mom left, and Charlie and I stood there for a few moments in silence, looking at everything in her room: clothes, shoes, stuffed animals, framed pictures of her and her boyfriend, soccer trophies. Then we held hands and slowly exited the house.
When we stepped outside, we ran into a girl from Charlie’s high school. She looked like a cartoon character, short and skinny, with dark circles under her eyes. She was holding a bottle of beer.
“How are you, Charliebear!” she said, giving him a big hug.
“Good. I haven’t seen you in a while. How is everything?”
“Great. Is this your girlfriend?”
“Yes, this is my girlfriend Miriam.”
“Hi, I’m Bianca,” she said, putting her arms around my neck and giving me a big hug.
Then I knew who she was. Charlie’s ex-girlfriend had the same name as my best friend.
“It’s nice to meet you,” I said, glancing sideways at Charlie.
“She’s beautiful,” Bianca told Charlie, as if I weren’t standing right there.
“I know,” he smiled.
We chatted for a few minutes, and then she trotted back to her group of friends.
While I wanted to hate her because of how she had hurt Charlie, I couldn’t help liking her because she was so sweet to me. She was a nice girl. It was obvious that she and Charlie were on different paths, not meant to merge again—which helped me slowly forget about what happened between them.
A few days later I had to say goodbye to Charlie for the third time. I flew safely to Vancouver and began a year of service, spiritual growth, and loneliness.
Goodnight to My Thoughts of You Page 33