Jackie Hance Funeral Novels & Stories

“I know about the will. It seems strange that you only got a small portion. But no matter what, I will try to help you behind your uncle’s back.” “Aunty ….” Amy hugged her aunt and sobbed. “Thank you. I don’t know what to do. Jillian is still unconscious in the hospital.” “Don’t worry. I will try my best to help you, but we must be careful. Now, let’s attend the funeral.” Amy and Becky returned to the crowd. More people attended the funeral. The priest already came too, and he shook hands with Tom, Amy’s cousins, Becky, and Amy. After saying his condolences, the priest said, “Shall we start the funeral now?” he asked Amy and Tom.

he asked, like we hadn't just heard the same thing. Katy answered for me. "Did you not just hear me say it? Jackie's gone." "Gone?" he echoed. Katy nodded. "Dead. Last night." He paused, then shrugged. Like she'd just told him the cafeteria ran out of pizza. "Seriously?" he asked. "How?" "Heart failure," Katy said. "They're saying it was secondary to something else. Something with an A, but it means suffocating. Weird, right?" Victor tilted his head. "Strange for that to happen all of a sudden."

Her soft grip on my shoulders felt good, like she were capable of infusing warmth into my cold soul with enough pressure. "Sure. That would be nice." I glanced over my shoulder at her and offered a sad smile. "Thanks for taking off this week to be around me. I've needed it. Needed you." I put my hands on hers and squeezed them softly. "I'd do anything for you. You're like a sister to me." She leaned over and kissed the top of my head. Her long blond hair cascaded down around my shoulders and tickled my cheek. "Jace is going to be one of the pall bearers at the funeral. You're okay with that, right?"

"Jack died September sixteenth last year. I've been here ever since then." "Jack?" "My husband, Jack Tinsdale. Drove a 1979 Peterbilt. I was his partner for eleven years. He was riding shotgun while I got us into town and had a heart attack. I pulled into Hi-Country and they called the ambulance. He died the next day. I sold our truck to Hi-Country and they gave me a job." "You need to give them two weeks notice?" "No, but I want to. It hasn't been great there but they have been pretty good to me."

Immediately I finish talking, people started moving out of the chapel. “Okay.” Rio joins the moving crowd and I follow behind him. I have had my own fair share of funerals as Mrs. Park had insisted we attended every single one, but I had somehow forgotten the amount of crying and shouting that happens in them. I do remember always wondering if the tears were real or if they were just putting on a show. Right now, the pain felt real, but I couldn’t bring myself to shed a tear. “Aren’t you supposed to be up there?” Rio points to the front where Jack’s coffin is being lowered into the ground. “You are family too.”

She sighed as she leaned in the chair holding her now pounding head. As another week passed the funeral was coming up as Janet helped the decorations at this fancy funeral home that was held outside like a wedding with a canopy over the head to catch any rain if the weather didn’t want to act right. Janet had posters of pictures of Jason and Alyssa in the front covered by flowers and a huge casket meant to fit two, but was empty. The police still couldn’t find the bodies and it was frustrating that she had to hold this funeral without them.

She smiled at me. "Very good Diamind. Very, very good observation and analysis. I am happy to learn that this year I got someone this intelligent. Excellent. I believe that you are right my little Diamond. This can be very much possible. Lord Higgins, have you made the preparations for the funeral?" She asked changing the topic so swiftly and coming to hear of it, I finally let a tear fall from my eye. There was just a head left to bury. "Yes Lady Hannah. It will be tomorrow, early in the morning at 5:00 am." He replied with his eyes looking down on the floor. Respectful movement.

Three days later, the "United Front" made its first public appearance since the disaster. The funeral for Marcus was held at a small, private cemetery overlooking the Hudson. It was a cold, somber affair, attended by the elite of New York—the same people who had watched Ivy’s humiliation at the gala. Dante stood at the head of the casket, dressed in impeccable black, his hand firmly holding Ivy’s. She wore a veil of black lace that obscured her eyes, making her look like a mourning widow before she was even a bride.

My funeral was held three days later in Queens Cemetery. Next to my mother’s grave, there was now a fresh mound of earth. Very few people came. There were John, a few elderly members of the family, and Dr. Harrison from Mount Sinai Hospital. The coffin was white, and Vincent had it covered in white roses from end to end. He didn’t say a single word the entire time. After the funeral ended, Elena finally arrived. She was dressed in black, her eyes swollen and red.

The doors opened. “Jackie Ackerman?” a woman wearing blue scrubs asked. “Yes. I’m here. I’m Jackie.” The woman wandered over. Fatigue lined the skin around her eyes, but her face remained blank. “I’m Doctor Silsbee. I headed the team that worked on your son.” “How is he?” She paused. “I’m sorry but he didn’t make it.” “What? Didn’t make it as in…he died?” “Yes. I’m sorry. He coded twice and our attempts to revive him were unsuccessful.”