Acceptance

I honestly had no idea what to expect when I walked into the airport on the day of my father’s funeral, but if I had to guess, I never would’ve thought any of what happened was true. That wasn’t a bad thing, though. Sometimes, the best stories were the ones we could never predict. Normally, people didn’t experience earthquakes if they lived in New York. Normally, people didn’t become trapped in bathrooms with their celebrity crushes. Normally, people didn’t share life stories or similar experiences with strangers. Normally, people didn’t get offered a ride with said stranger when they missed their flight. Normally, people didn’t invite someone they’d only known for eight hours to attend their father”s funeral. Normally, people didn’t find love when they had stopped believing it existed. Against all the odds, somehow, all of those things happened to me. It went against every logical and statistical probability that defined normal life experiences.

But my life had never been normal.

Everything had changed so much within twenty-four hours and just to think it was all because of an earthquake.

A lot of people compared natural disasters to catastrophic, world ending events, and I couldn’t deny that were dangerous…but sometimes they could also create a second chance. Sometimes, these disasters worked as a sort of wake-up call. Generally, on the less severe side of things, earthquakes caused people to feel unsteady, and no one liked to lack stability, but for me, an earthquake was exactly what I needed to find my center of gravity. Somehow, it helped me find balance.

Snapping back into reality, I pushed myself off of the bench and ran towards the podium. Lexi didn’t have time to react before I tackled her in a hug.

“Thank you for being here for me,” I expressed solemnly, my mouth buried against her shoulder.

“Always, Autumn. Always,” she promised while stroking my hair.

The pastor then cleared his throat, prompting us to break apart from each other. “If that is all, you may take your seats.” He motioned back towards the pews. “And I see we have two more guests that have arrived. I hesitate to ask, but would either of you like to say anything today?”

I turned towards the main congregation area to see who he was referring to. To my surprise, Andrew and Brian had come inside and sat in one of the pews situated at the back of the church.

“No, they are good,” Lexi replied for both of them.

“Good,” the pastor breathed out before realizing what he had said. “I mean very well then.”

Lexi and I exchanged glances as we snickered while walking back to our seats.

My mom then tipped her head in our direction and whispered, “I think we broke him.”

All of us then turned to stare at him, watching as he wiped his forehead, which was at this point drenched in sweat. Then, the three of us began chuckling as the pastor obliviously continued preaching and talking of heaven. I was so worried about this funeral earlier, but now I felt so at peace. I was glad I didn’t chicken out like I had wanted to.

And it was all thanks to Lexi and my mother.

My mom then wagged her finger, motioning for both of us to lean in closer.

“Not that I’m disappointed more people showed up for your father”s funeral, but do either of you know who those two men back there are?” My mom questioned.

A smile appeared on my face as Lexi and I looked at each other knowingly and broke out into hysterics.

This is what I needed.

Startled at the unconventional sound that was usually not present during a wake, the pastor glared at us suspiciously and asked, “Is everything okay?”

Yes, it was.

“Actually,” I replied, taking hold of both of their hands. “Everything is perfect.”

I later found out it was a magnitude 6.1 earthquake that had struck the East Coast. There were no deaths, thankfully…All in all I think it was a perfect disaster.

There are five stages of grief. Denial. Anger. Bargaining. Depression. Acceptance. I’m happy to say that right now, I think I finally found my way to acceptance. Denial is when I’d lay awake at night creating fake scenarios of the perfect family in my head that seemed so real, I started to actually believe them. Anger is where I spent most of my time. It’s when I wished my father never existed. Bargaining is when I tried to put him on a pedestal and pretend he was someone that he wasn”t. Depression is when I became lost in the thought that my family would never be whole again. Acceptance is when I realized the loss of my father was not worth the loss of myself.

Grief is not the same for everyone and it isn’t just a straight path. This is just my story. And it’s a goddamn good one, if I do say so myself.

Maybe autumn isn’t so bad after all.