Part Three
Today is my funeral. I had it put in my will that I was to be buried among NCIS’s fallen, not Mossad’s. It is a sunny day, which is mocking to those attending, who feel so pained and guilty.
I watch as the team speaks. Gibbs saying that he loved me like a daughter, how he will always carry the guilt of my death on his heart, his whispered words that he has now lost two daughters.
Tony is struggling not to break down. He simply says that he loved me, and he will never forgive himself for not telling me. Another person he has loved and lost too soon, he remarks sadly. A tear trails down his cheek, as he asks for me to look out for his mom, tell Jenny he’s sorry, and kiss Paula and Kate for him.
McGee stands proud, saying I was an inspiration to him, to never give up, that has not changed, he adds, and the world has lost a great ally, he has lost a great ally. I have never been prouder of him.
Ducky seems so old, standing up on the stage, saying he will miss our tea times, how much he respected my discipline, that he so tired of doing autopsies on friends, and to tell mother hello for him.
Abby is crying too hard to say much, and the few things she does say are barely eligible. She half sobs, half wails, that she misses me, she is sorry that we got off on the wrong foot, and to hug the whole group now up there.
I do not know what anyone else says, I have stopped listening. I notice that my father is not in attendance. As the last speaker stops talking and the crowd marches outside, all those gathered together to see my body off, are sprinkled with a light cleansing drops of rain, cleaning away their sorrows.
As my family looks up, smiling, I smile back content to move on, knowing we’re all where we need to be.
Valerie Portolano
June 16, 2009
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