When all that is left of me is love, give me away...

Well. Stephanie Hurley, my friend, my peer, my role-model, my captain, but most of all my Rugby Sister, is gone.
Another Rugby girl called me up. "Steph's dead."
...huh? What? My brain didn't take it all in. Couldn't.
Shock. That's all I felt. I distanced myself from it and felt ...shock.

And then a whirlwind of things- back to work and the everyday, schedule a ticket to attend the funeral, pack up, arrive, and stay at Cassie's house. Meet up with other Rugby Sisters and Norwich-ers one by one. We talked. We ate. We reminisced a bit.

I didn't cry, not once, I couldn't remember my Hurley yet. The Harley-Lee as she was to us, to each of us. I'd lose it. I blocked memories- memories of practice, of scrummaging with my head next to her ass, of hangin' in her room, of borrowing her microwave, of borrowing her perfume (I always do a lot of borrowing with friends...), of having talks with her about everything from the team to boys to my Dad to what was wrong with Norwich...that girl who I knew, who I looked up to, who I loved, could not be dead.

There was time aplenty for tears later. And they came. First at the wake, which was gorgeous, emotional, hilarious, and all the same upsetting and disturbing; I could never fathom the strength it took for Steph's family, especially her Mother and Father, to stand next to the open casket of their daughter for three hours and accept the condolences of so many people. It blows my mind. And seeing her there, like I saw my father 3 years ago... I had to remind myself we were paying tribute to her flesh, but that while the body in that casket housed her spirit for a short 23 years, that was no longer Stephanie.
Of course, all of us rugby girls got a real kick out of the Northeast Championship trophy among her personal NUWRFC (Norwich Univ Women's Rugby Football Club) collection-- because technically, she did kind of 'steal it' from the school, but hell! She was our captain who led us to that victory, she deserved it...oh, and we had all taken shots out of it, haha...

That was the first round of tears. We hit a bar, got a little boozy, and then rested up to prepare for the final goodbye, but I think (know damn well) none of us were ever ready for the funeral the next day.

There is a different kind of sorrow when someone so young and so beloved dies suddenly and seemingly without explanation. I would imagine that, had she died at a later age, her continuous accumulation of friends would have mandated a larger chapel, or perhaps an outdoor funeral.

As it was, we pulled up to a street lined with towering maple trees, grabbed our pocket packs, smoked our last smokes, and packed in to St. Mary's Church in Brookfield, Mass on the 8th of August, a Friday. It was sunny and mild, and the light in the church filtering through the stained glass windows was gorgeous. It was fitting. There was standing room only by the time they invited us to join them in the opening hymn, Amazing Grace. That was when the tears and emotions really started- you can't imagine. The few of those in attendance who were still managing a (remotely convincing) guise of composure attempted to squeeze out some steady strings of syllables to the acoustic accompaniment...

"Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound, that saved a wretch like me..."
The procession entered. Sniffles all around. I'm in anguish. Did they really have to choose this song?

"I once was lost, but now I'm found..."
Stephanie's casket was cerimoniously carried in, all pallbearers in full dress uniform. Seeing the flag draped over her casket was... I don't know- honestly, the only word that comes to mind is 'numbing.'

"Was blind, but now I see..."
Her family entered just behind her. Seeing their faces broke my heart. People in attendance tried to hold in sniffles and sobs out of respect.

The speeches and readings were wonderful, even if I must admit to getting lost in my thoughts of Steph once or twice, and to regularly fishing for tissue, and even to looking around to make sure I wan't the only rugby girl absolutely losing her fucking mind over this.
A few standouts- I believe it was an Aunt of Steph's who read a few verses, the takeaway of which was: Once one of God's children on Earth has learned all of their lessons, has reached perfection, and has fulfilled their purpose, it is then that he takes them from us, to join him in everlasting peace.
If anyone I know was likely to have learnt and fulfilled thus, it was Steph. I only wished the reward were different.

Also, her sisters and brother went to the podium. Her sister Jennifer read this touching, heart-breaking poem about her sister... you could hear her struggling against tears to keep her voice strong, which of course was making everyone there cry even harder. I admire her bravery for making it a far as she did.
I'm unsure of whether or not she finished it, because at one point, she looked down at her sister's casket, and I could kind of see the realization hit her. She walked down the steps towards the casket and started to cry, really cry. Then she hit her knees and buried her face in the floor, and screamed. And I recognized it. I remembered that grief. I remembered being so torn apart that I was numb, then sad, but sometimes the whole reality of my loss would hit me all at once and I'd feel so absolutely swallowed by the terror of it that I thought the tragedy of it all would rip me apart, it felt so unimaginably painful that I thought it might literally kill me.

But that was my Father. This was her sister, and I imagine it was magnified.

We took Holy Communion, exited the Church after the Family and Stephanie, and gathered outside for the 21 gun-salute and Taps. If you've never been to a full Military Funeral, I'm not sure I can accurately describe this part. I'll try.

It is dead silent. You hear one faint voice, calling the commands: Detail, atten-hut... Ready. Metal snaps on metal as the weapons are cocked. Aim. The sharp rustle of a unified movement. Fire! And the shots go off. Twice more. Seven riflemen firing three vollies.

And then Taps.

Day is done,
Gone the sun,
From the hills,
From the lake,
From the skies.
All is well,
safely rest,
God is nigh.

Go to sleep,
Peaceful sleep.
May the soldier
or sailor, God keep.
On the land
or the deep,
Safe in sleep.

Love, good night,
Must thou go?
When the Day
and the Night
Need thee so?
All is well.
Speedeth all
To their rest...

Thanks and praise,
For our days,
'Neath the sun,
'Neath the stars,
'Neath the sky,
As we go,
This we know,
God is nigh.

And Stephanie is gone. So we all just cried.

And I know that no matter how horribly, heart-wrenchingly sad I was, or am, or will be, I'll never understand what Steph's family is battling everyday when they wake up. I don't dare imagine that how I feel even begins to approach what any member of her family is feeling...especially her sisters. And all I can do, all any of us can do- is try and be there for them.

And remember Stephanie.
I wrote this so I'll never forget those days, but I know I'll never forget her.

Who could?