Never Cruel. Never False.

“Thank you all for coming today,” Aunt Isadora said.

“I imagine Alice would find this a bit dramatic. The black clothes, the flowers, the speeches. She’d probably be standing in the back dressed in a baseball outfit, ready to hit a home run. Saying, ‘Let’s go to the ball game…’”

“Alice was not an easy girl. Never listened. No rules. No order. And believe me — I tried.”

“She once ran from piano lessons — stole fifty dollars from my purse — and bought a whole chocolate raspberry cake from a shop. She ate it all alone. And when we found her, she was covered in icing and surrounded by stray dogs…”

“But that was Alice. Strange. Funny. Beautiful. Never cruel. Never false.”

“She wanted her own world. Something I couldn’t give her. But she made one of her own — good friends, a business, a world of laughter and music… And yes — chocolate raspberry cake.”

“She had a way of loving people that was incredible. Like a firework sparkler — bright and magical. She was meant to burn. To dazzle. To leave people confused, breathless, and a heck of a lot better for having known her.”

“We lost her too soon. And yes, I’m angry. At the world. At myself. At everything that didn’t keep her safe!”

Aunt Isadora began to cry.

“My baby… May God bless your soul in the next life.”