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Coco shifted at the end of the bed, his little cat weight pressing against my feet. Or, big cat weight. Half asleep, I stretched out, and my leg brushed against him. Before I knew it, I heard someone shout, Don't hit Coco!
I startled awake, rolled onto my back – and there they were. My crew. Joe, Catalina, and Sally, shining like stars in the dark corners of my bedroom. I just smiled and sank deeper into my pillow. Joe was the first to speak, of course. He chuckled and said, That post you made the other day – about you being hired for funerals with a white flag? Funniest damn thing I ever read. I swear, I wish you'd been at mine. My ex walked in and – man, you would've been waving that flag so hard you'd have gotten a standing ovation. Before I could respond, Sally swirled her shawl dramatically and jumped in. Fanfare at funerals! she declared like she was on a stage. I'm telling you, we need trumpets, feathers, confetti – oh, and sequence! A little razzle dazzle while the preacher drones on. Give them a show! Joe laughed so hard I thought he'd fall off his invisible, ripped up, leather La-Z-Boy. Lord help us, Sally, if you're in charge of funerals, we’ll need earplugs and sunglasses. As they went back-and-forth, I noticed Catalina hadn't said a word. She had her hoodie pulled tight, her face shadowed. And then, softly, she whispered from under the hood, I didn't have any fanfare when I died. The room froze. Even Sally's bangles went quiet. Joe finally broke the silence, gently, Sure you did, kid. All those flowers and crosses on the road side. People remembered. Catalina shook her head quickly, eyes flashing. No. No, that doesn't count. I hate those. They're just distractions – someone's gonna crash looking at them, and then it's another accident. I don't want anyone else hurt. For the first time, her voice wasn't sarcastic, wasn't distant. It was raw. Honest. And it left all of us speechless. Sally floated closer, unusually tender, her sharp edges softened. She touched Catalina's shoulder lightly, like a mother smoothing a wrinkle. Honey, she said, sometimes the greatest fanfare isn't what's outside – it's what's inside. The love they carried for you… that never needed a trumpet. Catalina didn't reply at first. She just sunk deeper into her hoodie. The room was thick with silence. Then, just when I thought she might actually cry, she muttered, Anyway… can we not? Like – next subject. Joe smirked. Sally rolled her eyes with mock drama. And just when the heaviness felt too much, Catalina popped her head out just enough to add, That was low-key cringe, you guys. We all laughed, not at her, but with her. Seriousness tucked back into her hood, the moment was safe again. I closed my eyes, the emotion of it all still lingering. Coco huddled at my feet, grounding me in the here/now. That's how it always is during these evenings of mine – half laughter, half heartache. A little white flag for the truth, and always, always love in the room.
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Medium DiairesThe nightly visitors I write about in my newsletter every week, now all in one space! Enjoy! Medium Diaries Index
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