Then Theo got quieter.
“When Jack got sick, everybody started calling him brave.”
He looked down. “He hated that.”
I knew that.
Jack once told me:
“Mom, if one more adult tells me I’m brave while putting a needle in me, I’m going to become violent.”
Theo continued.
“He said being sick wasn’t brave. It was just happening to him.”
Theo’s hands tightened around the podium.
“But I think there was one thing he was brave about.”
He looked at us.
“He knew before most of us were willing to know.”
I closed my eyes. “He knew he might die.”
The words hurt even though we’d already buried him.
“And somehow he still spent half his time trying to make everybody else less afraid.”
Theo touched the dress.
“This wasn’t Jack making fun of me.”
He smiled.
“Okay. It was partly Jack making fun of me.”
More laughter.
“But mostly I think he wanted one last thing he could control.”
