One of Nich and I's favorite sayings was "are you feeling facetious and cumbersome"? We made it up after spending an afternoon in New Glasgow with two boys, when we were really supposed to be working on some school project or another. These boys had a CD by a band called Seven Mary Three, and Nich and I took some of the lyrics from one of the songs and made it into a phrase so that we could remember that day. As I was reading my yearbook after I found out about her death, I saw that she had written that at the end of what she wrote. I didn't own the CD myself, and starting scouring stores to find it. Every music store I passed, I would stop to check and see if they had it. None did, even the stores in Calgary didn't have a single copy. I kinda gave up on ever finding it, but it was still on my mind as something I wanted to find. The time came to say goodbye and go to the wake. I had been putting off any activity that actually made me realize that she was really gone. I knew that I would eventually have to deal with what I had lost, but I just didn't want to, I was much happier stuffing all those feelings away for as long as I could. Even getting ready for the wake, I could anticipate what was to come, and I was fighting it all the way. I didn't want to go, I didn't want to go, I didn't want to go. As I stood there in the entrance way to the funeral home staring at the memorial picture of Nichola set up above the guest book, listening to my father make idle chit-chat with the random gentleman in front of us, I was struck dumb by the whole thing. It still didn't feel real. People shouldn't be standing here in groups waiting to say goodbye to my best friend, and talking about farmland, cows, and other mundane things. Finally the curt funeral director opened the door and told us the procedure: enter the chapel, pay your respects to the deceased, and then proceed to the next room to greet the family. I felt detached from my body as I walked towards her casket draped in a Canadian flag. As soon as I stood beside her casket, I couldn't keep from crying. It was finally becoming too real. Way too real. As Dad and I were leaving the wake, we got into the van and I subconsciously started to sing along with the song that was on the radio. It took a few seconds for it to dawn on me, but I soon realized that it was "Cumbersome" by Seven Mary Three. All I could do was smile and thank her, because I believe that was her way of saying that everything was going to be alright, and that she forgave me for everything I was feeling guilty for. I believe in something more.