1 Prologue

"Life isn't about waiting for the storm to pass, it's about learning to dance in the rain,"

she said, wiping tears off her cheeks with the back of her hand.

"This is something I learnt from my son William, or Billy as he preferred to be called," she continued. "Billy had a lavish number of storms in his life, as short as it was,

and he didn't just run away from them, he found ways of coping with them because he knew more were coming and if he hadn't learned to dance, he may never have made it to the age of eighteen. A boy of principle and courage, Billy was a dreamer and was always

firm in what he believed. It is one of the reasons he left the country- to pursue his dreams."

Two tears streamed down her cheek then a fresh round of sobs escaped her chest. There had been a small piece of paper on the lectern which she then folded. She briefly looked at the opened casket just in front of the pulpit then to me then continued.

"What can I say about the world's greatest son? Billy was kind, sweet, charismatic, bright, gentle and he was so loving and giving. He cared with a passion unlike anything I have ever seen. He was greatness. He lived life on his own terms. He did not conform to most social norms but he was not a rebel. He was just a free spirit who lived life, again, on his own terms. He told stories that captivated a room He could when he left it, everyone in it would be smiling. He was a leader. He had followers and in a strange way, he was better at what he did without even trying it. It's sad that some of you never had the chance to meet a wonderful soul as him.

She paused, her body very tense. The whole church was ghost quiet. The only sounds present were sobs and sniffles. For a woman who was four months pregnant, she

sure didn't look like she was.

"The length of a human life is uncertain," she continued. "One could pass on anytime, anywhere. It could either be from a disease, or a car accident, and in the blink of an eye a family is torn apart, forever. Life is a lot shorter than any of us realize and you just don't know what you have until it's gone." She sobbed, again, wiping away tears with the back of her hand, again.

"Today, I stand here in front of all of you with a broken heart. The loss of my one and only child is something I could have never prepared for and it is heart shattering.

True, I knew that when he left the country we would be separated for a long time and

anything could've happened while he was away but I refused to prepare myself. I couldn't. I wasn't ready." She unfolded the paper in her hand, made a brief peek before folding it back. "As much as I would love to go on speaking all the things I loved about my son, I'm afraid there's only so much my emotions can handle. I believe it would suffice to say that having Billy as my son was one of the best things in my life."

She looked up. "Billy, I miss you terribly and I will always love you. You are and forever will be my hero. While my family and I are deeply grieved, we firmly believe that the Grand Maker will reunite us again. Your memory will live on for as long as we do."

More tears flooded her pretty face. She looked like she was about to enter a deep episode

of tears. I rose from my seat and hurried to the podium to offer some solace. I led her away, holding her shoulders, to the back of the church and gave her a napkin to wipe her tears. My father once told me a real gentleman always walks with a napkin in case of events like this.

"Thank you," she muttered, crying.

I quickly comforted her and went back to the podium, trying not to cry. The church was quiet as a graveyard. It was awkwardly full considering the number of people my family associated with. We had lived in the area for a couple of years but I wasn't aware we had this many people who knew us. Someone's phone vibrated. He quickly left the church to attend to it. I looked at the church, left to right, resting a little longer on the front pew where I had sat with some of my relatives, including my younger brother who smiled at me encouragingly.

Very much aware that I was virtually anonymous, I said, "for those of you who don't know me on't know me I'm William's father. Rather I was," I quickly corrected myself. "My son was a child of a few words and much has already been said by my wife but I'll just tell you a short history about him."

I cleared my throat and then told the gathering all funny stories of him I could gather watching my son grow up. I told them some of his proclivities, one of which I hadn't realized was funny until the gathering went into a polite episode of laughter which drowned the sobs of several women. After I finished, I let the reverend take the podium. After a lengthy prayer by the reverend, we sang a hymn before he let the pallbearers carry the casket down the aisle.

Outside, my wife and I stood together as we received hugs and condolences from various people. The last to come to us were The Banda's who were our closest friends. They shared their sympathy. I left them to briefly converse with a few of my colleagues before later joining the pallbearers in carrying the coffin off to the grave. At first, they put up a fight saying I shouldn't bother but I insisted that I do and they gave in