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71 July 16, 2007 Chapter Thirteen T oday I bury my child. I don't know how this has happened or why and I feel sick. The ceremony is so hard for me to recount today, but I do re- member my daughter and Sean speaking and I vividly remember thinking. "How is she getting through this?" She was such a wreck yesterday and her friends had to drag her up to see her brother. I really believe Bryant held her hand, and I really believe that to this day he holds her hand when she doesn't even know it. We played Bryant's kind of music and, as a matter of fact; mostly his close friends and family arranged the entire funeral. Friends gathered pictures of Bryant because all of my photos were at home in Louisiana since I had flown directly into Memphis from California. I had nothing but what was in my suitcase. Somehow, I managed to say a poem while standing beside my son's casket, but I have no idea what I said exactly. I wanted to crawl into the casket with him and scream out loud at the same time. I have nev- er felt so lonely and abandoned. I couldn't function, and I could have gone to a dark place and never come back. This was my Bryant in that silver coffin with red roses cover- ing the top, a bronze baseball glove and ball on each corner. I was