I straighten my black dress, tears daring to fall out of my already wet eyes.

I breathe, remembering the steps Doctor Kenmur suggested, and exit the car.

My black heels click on the small sidewalk as I silently enter the cathedral. The room for worship seems empty, except for the preacher who immediately notices me and my presence.

"Ah! Miss Crespo! I am dearly sorry for your loss, but he lives with the saints in heaven..." The man nods, embracing me in a hug. "Let me know if you ever need to talk about him or your thoughts. Everyone is supposed to meet in that room there."

He points to a double door opening, where I thank him and continue on.

I am instantly greeted by grim faces and saddened expressions, as everyone wishes their condolences. I don't find anyone I truly know aside from cousins who sit in the corner, so I remain the center of attention.

"He was really a good man..." An older man mumbles, checking his watch and clutching what seems to be his wife.

"Yes, indeed." A woman across from me speaks, patting me on the back and gifting me a quick, friendly kiss on the cheek.

All I can do is nod, trying to keep my composure before loosing it early on.

"*AHEM*." The pastor coughs at the opening as all eyes lay on him in silence. "The service is scheduled to begin in seven minutes."

Everyone rushes simultaneously into the area, scattering amongst themselves. I decide that I should sit in the front row alone, so I don't have to talk to anyone and have an easy entry to the alter where I have to speak.

The beginning is slow, singing songs and people whispering back and forth.

His sermon did hit home about how my father was the center of attention and everyone knew him as a loving guy. It made me tear up about the shooting part, but surprisingly didn't make me crave any meds as I have been recently.

It makes me feel better knowing I caught the addiction early in and got it taken care of, but nothing could lighten the mood at the funeral of my father.

Things go by until it's my time to shine.

I freeze up, not moving a muscle. I grab for my index cards and wobbly walk to the podium next to my father's cremated ashes.

"Hello, everyone." I mutter into the microphone. "As you all may k-know, I am L-Lucinda Cres-spo."

I try clearing my dry throat as I continue sweating, just wanting to burst into tears and end it now.

"Well, my father w-was-" I pause to look down at my speech, written well with time and shed tears, as I sigh and put them down.

"My father was my life. And I was the center of his. You all should most definitely know that by now. We loved each other deeply--- immensely. And it pains me to think some IMBISUL--" I calm myself down. "I just can't understand why someone so heartless could kill someone so pure. So... Loving. Caring. Kind. Fatherly.

"I knew his time would come at some point, I did. But not this early." I felt my vision blur, an indication to wrap it up. "And I know he would want me to say something meaningful about him. And that is I miss him. And since he left, I've been cruel, to others. Especially myself. And I want him and you all to know, it isn't your fault. I imagined his death and how I could have prevented it. How I was a bad daughter for not being by his side. And as I begin uncovering this and understanding, I know I couldn't have prevented it. I cherished every moment with him, and I have all those memories to look back on.

"I seem young to have a father die, yes. But what I can say is that I have my whole life to still live. Not mourning him, rather celebrating his life lived. He lived for almost eighty years, which makes him seem like the old dad he was. But that makes me happy. That people realize the impact he made on this world and how much he enjoyed life. His death makes me sad, but knowing he loved his family, life, and community, makes me overwhelmed with joy."

"Thank you."