DÉJÀ VU - Chapter 14: Chapter 14
You are reading DÉJÀ VU, Chapter 14: Chapter 14. Read more chapters of DÉJÀ VU.
"Then sings my soul, my Savior God to Thee
How great Thou art, how great Thou art
How great Thou art, how great Thou art"
The congregation sang the final lyrics of 'How Great Thou Art' as tears streamed down their faces, but I tried not to look as I made my way to the podium to do my eulogy.
The room felt impossibly quiet, save for the sniffles and muffled sobs of the congregation.
I took a deep breath, gripping the edges of the podium to steady my trembling hands.
"Good morning, everyone," I began, my voice shaky but determined. "We are gathered here today to celebrate the life of someone who meant so much to us. Someone who loved fiercely, gave selflessly, and—" My voice broke, and I felt the lump in my throat rise.
I glanced down at the paper in front of me, though I didn't really need it. I had spent all night rehearsing these words, these memories. Still, they felt inadequate. How do you sum up a life in just a few minutes? How do you honor someone who gave you so much?
"My grandmother was the type of person who'd light up every room she walked into. She had this way of making you feel like you were the most important person in the world. I remember the first time I tried to bake with her. She laughed so hard when I added salt instead of sugar. She didn't scold me, though. She just smiled and said, "A mistake is just the start of learning." But I'd always try not to make too many mistakes around her cause jeez, what a lady miserable."
A quiet ripple of chuckles spread through the congregation, breaking the solemn atmosphere for a moment. That warmth gave me the courage to continue.
"But in all seriousness," I said, my smile fading into a more reflective expression, "she was always right. She believed in finding the lesson in every moment, turning every experience—good or bad—into an opportunity to grow. Even when she was frustrated, there was always love behind it. She wanted all of us to be the best versions of ourselves."
I paused, as the weight of her absence hit me again.
"My grandmother wasn't just about lessons, though. She was about joy. She brought joy to everything she did. She taught me that faith, family, and love are the things that truly matter in life. And she lived every single day showing us exactly that."
I looked up at the congregation, meeting their tear-filled eyes with my own.
"Her strength came from her unshakable faith, and she'd want us to hold on to that faith now. Even though it hurts, even though this loss feels unbearable, she would remind us that God's love is greater than any pain. She'd tell us to hold onto the memories, the laughter, and the love, because those are things that can never be taken away."
I took a steadying breath, my voice growing more certain as I concluded.
"So today, let's not just mourn her. Let's celebrate her. Let's carry forward the love, the kindness, and the lessons she gave us. And let's never forget her light."
I hesitated for a moment, my lips trembling into a small, bittersweet smile. "Here she lies, and we won't say old—because she hated that word. Instead, we'll say, forever young in our hearts, forever cherished in our memories. Thank you."
As I stepped back from the podium, my tears finally fell freely, but I didn't try to stop them.
Mi done grandma, yuh can come back now.
"Yuh good ma?" Kairo asked as he laid in my lap, drawing shapes on the sides of my hips.
"Kinda, just..still inna shock, honestly. Mi feel like a hypocrite, earlier today mia tell di people dem bout how we fi celebrate her and dis and dat, when mi still a hold on to it."
He listened attentively before responding, "That doesn't make you a hypocrite Xanai, you lost your grandmother, and mi know unu did really close, suh no-one expects you to get over that so quickly- or even at all. Just keep repeating the words to yourself, and yah guh believe it. Y'know anyweh she deh she jus wah di best fi yuh."
I suppose you're right for the first.
"True yah talk. Thanks Kai."
"Anytime, yuh hungry?"
Two weeks later
March 20th
Kairo has been staying with me since my grandmother's funeral, and if you thought we were close before, you should see us now.
We're basically inseparable, I don't think there's anything in my life I haven't told him.
Well, anything much.
There are some things I will never, ever speak of, and he knows and respects that.
But recently, Kairo's usual flirtatious ways have become a bit more meaningful and serious, and the once playful but loving look he held in his eyes became...... just loving?
I can't even describe it, but, what I know is... I don't hate whatever is happening.
I was knocked from my thoughts when he came inside my room with a smile.
He went to visit his parents.
My brows furrowed, "A wah yah smile suh fah?"
"Cause.... mia get fi see mi wife. Long time minuh see yuh enuh ma." He spoke smugly.
Wife? A who pill him?
"Wife?" I raised a brow. "Yuh wife a dah likkle long lip gyal deh... Janette or something? And you haven't seen me for 6 hours its not that deep."
He chuckled, "Journee. And no, I left her; she's... too much." He spoke in his thick accent.
Alright you..
"I doh give a fuck, all mi know it start wid J." I spoke, not responding to the last thing he said.
"Alright Xanai." He spoke eyeing me.
How great Thou art, how great Thou art
How great Thou art, how great Thou art"
The congregation sang the final lyrics of 'How Great Thou Art' as tears streamed down their faces, but I tried not to look as I made my way to the podium to do my eulogy.
The room felt impossibly quiet, save for the sniffles and muffled sobs of the congregation.
I took a deep breath, gripping the edges of the podium to steady my trembling hands.
"Good morning, everyone," I began, my voice shaky but determined. "We are gathered here today to celebrate the life of someone who meant so much to us. Someone who loved fiercely, gave selflessly, and—" My voice broke, and I felt the lump in my throat rise.
I glanced down at the paper in front of me, though I didn't really need it. I had spent all night rehearsing these words, these memories. Still, they felt inadequate. How do you sum up a life in just a few minutes? How do you honor someone who gave you so much?
"My grandmother was the type of person who'd light up every room she walked into. She had this way of making you feel like you were the most important person in the world. I remember the first time I tried to bake with her. She laughed so hard when I added salt instead of sugar. She didn't scold me, though. She just smiled and said, "A mistake is just the start of learning." But I'd always try not to make too many mistakes around her cause jeez, what a lady miserable."
A quiet ripple of chuckles spread through the congregation, breaking the solemn atmosphere for a moment. That warmth gave me the courage to continue.
"But in all seriousness," I said, my smile fading into a more reflective expression, "she was always right. She believed in finding the lesson in every moment, turning every experience—good or bad—into an opportunity to grow. Even when she was frustrated, there was always love behind it. She wanted all of us to be the best versions of ourselves."
I paused, as the weight of her absence hit me again.
"My grandmother wasn't just about lessons, though. She was about joy. She brought joy to everything she did. She taught me that faith, family, and love are the things that truly matter in life. And she lived every single day showing us exactly that."
I looked up at the congregation, meeting their tear-filled eyes with my own.
"Her strength came from her unshakable faith, and she'd want us to hold on to that faith now. Even though it hurts, even though this loss feels unbearable, she would remind us that God's love is greater than any pain. She'd tell us to hold onto the memories, the laughter, and the love, because those are things that can never be taken away."
I took a steadying breath, my voice growing more certain as I concluded.
"So today, let's not just mourn her. Let's celebrate her. Let's carry forward the love, the kindness, and the lessons she gave us. And let's never forget her light."
I hesitated for a moment, my lips trembling into a small, bittersweet smile. "Here she lies, and we won't say old—because she hated that word. Instead, we'll say, forever young in our hearts, forever cherished in our memories. Thank you."
As I stepped back from the podium, my tears finally fell freely, but I didn't try to stop them.
Mi done grandma, yuh can come back now.
"Yuh good ma?" Kairo asked as he laid in my lap, drawing shapes on the sides of my hips.
"Kinda, just..still inna shock, honestly. Mi feel like a hypocrite, earlier today mia tell di people dem bout how we fi celebrate her and dis and dat, when mi still a hold on to it."
He listened attentively before responding, "That doesn't make you a hypocrite Xanai, you lost your grandmother, and mi know unu did really close, suh no-one expects you to get over that so quickly- or even at all. Just keep repeating the words to yourself, and yah guh believe it. Y'know anyweh she deh she jus wah di best fi yuh."
I suppose you're right for the first.
"True yah talk. Thanks Kai."
"Anytime, yuh hungry?"
Two weeks later
March 20th
Kairo has been staying with me since my grandmother's funeral, and if you thought we were close before, you should see us now.
We're basically inseparable, I don't think there's anything in my life I haven't told him.
Well, anything much.
There are some things I will never, ever speak of, and he knows and respects that.
But recently, Kairo's usual flirtatious ways have become a bit more meaningful and serious, and the once playful but loving look he held in his eyes became...... just loving?
I can't even describe it, but, what I know is... I don't hate whatever is happening.
I was knocked from my thoughts when he came inside my room with a smile.
He went to visit his parents.
My brows furrowed, "A wah yah smile suh fah?"
"Cause.... mia get fi see mi wife. Long time minuh see yuh enuh ma." He spoke smugly.
Wife? A who pill him?
"Wife?" I raised a brow. "Yuh wife a dah likkle long lip gyal deh... Janette or something? And you haven't seen me for 6 hours its not that deep."
He chuckled, "Journee. And no, I left her; she's... too much." He spoke in his thick accent.
Alright you..
"I doh give a fuck, all mi know it start wid J." I spoke, not responding to the last thing he said.
"Alright Xanai." He spoke eyeing me.
End of DÉJÀ VU Chapter 14. Continue reading Chapter 15 or return to DÉJÀ VU book page.