"You alright?" Edward asks as we approach the entrance to the Cathedral. It is Travis's funeral today and I spent the night before crying myself to sleep. We have arrived a few minutes late and this does nothing to calm my already jittery nerves.

"Yes I'm fine." I reply, attempting a tight smile.

A small crowd is gathered in the church, occupying half the pews as we make our way towards the back. Thankfully, the service hasn't actually started and I sigh in relief.

Mary Prescott, Travis's mother spies us from the front row and ushers us over.

"I hope you don't mind." She begins. "But I would like for you to sit with family here up front. I feel like you are."

"I'd be honoured to Mrs. Prescott." I nod, taking a seat beside her as Edward expresses his thanks and does the same.

I squeeze her hand in a bid to offer comfort and she squeezes back, whispering her gratitude.

We quieten down as the priest begins readings before launching into his sermon. He talks about death, the resurrection of Christ and life after death. After this, he talks about Travis; about his life and about his role in the church.

I do my best to listen during the Eucharist prayer and as we receive Holy Communion but my thoughts are determined to keep me distracted.

The Priest then informs us that although this is not their usual practise as it is rather encouraged during the vigil, Travis's mum will be reading out a eulogy for the deceased.

I give an unconscious intake of breath as Mary heads towards the front, her legs unsteady but her face full of will power.

Mary's eyes look sunken and she has on a thick layer of makeup to hide the dark patches underneath. Her hair is styled to perfection and her pant suit is crease free. She moves closer to the microphone, softly clearing her throat before speaking.

"First of all, I want to thank you all for being here today for me, for my family and for Travis. I am deeply grateful to each and every beautiful face looking up at me right now. No mother wishes to do this but I have to and I will. I am Travis's mum and as Father Grant mentioned earlier, I've prepared a little piece for my son." She unfolds a neat side of paper and clears her throat once again before commencing.

"Travis was born at around half one on a beautiful Friday morning. He was a healthy baby with flushed skin, a tiny button nose and cute pink lips." She smiles fondly at the memory but the smile doesn't quite reach her eyes.

"My mother named him Joel which means "Yahweh is God" because we had had some trouble getting pregnant before Travis and the labour process also proved to be no piece of cake. My husband, Terry and I, settled for the first name Travis meaning "to cross over" because felt that with our darling little baby boy we were moving into a new beginning; one where we'd be happier and not have to worry about having children.

We took our baby boy home the next day and I began to care for him. He was everything I could ever ask for in a child. Did we coddle him a little? Yes we did but you see, he was our only child - our baby. When Travis left for college, it broke my heart which is ironic because the sadness I felt then could never ever compare the brokenness I feel now.

I watched Travis grow daily into a charming, confident young man who had one too many battles to fight through his lifetime. Although I was the parent, he taught me never to stop fighting until I achieved my aspirations. Travis didn't only learn to dance in the rain; he wanted to dance in the rain. He was not perfect but he had a heart of gold.

When I got a call from the school asking me to come in because something had happened to Travis, I was scared but also confident that whatever had happened, my baby boy would once again sail through it. Little did I know that it would be the end of the road for him and the worst day of my life. He was murdered in cold blood and it is indeed a pity that we could not lay him to rest any sooner but here we are now, finally doing right by him and I'm happy for it. What happened to Travis was cruel and it broke me and my family but God has seen us through and we are getting justice for my son."

A few nods and relieved sighs ascend from the crowd and Mary Prescott sucks in a deep breath. Her speech awakens a myriad of emotions in me and I cannot seem to control a single one of them. They flurry about within me, sometimes merging into seemingly endless combinations so that my eyes begin to let out the sorrows of my heart and my cheeks become wet. Edward quietly hands me some tissue and I accept it gratefully, willing myself to be strong as Mary continues to speak.

"Sometimes I feel that maybe I took his presence in my life for granted because I felt that he was going to be there much longer. I had thought that he would be doing this for me instead. Travis was only 27 years old when he was taken from us. He has left a hole in our hearts and we miss him. We miss him because he's not there to care for us, to laugh with, to argue with and boss around. I miss him because he isn't here to cheer me up when I'm having an uphill kind of day..." her voice breaks and she wipes at her face gently with a pad of tissue before taking a sip of water which has been placed for her on the stand. "I miss him because he is no longer here to inspire me, because he's not here. I don't know that he's in a better place but I pray that he is.

I know that Travis meant different things to all of you seated here. To some he was a friend and to others he probably wasn't that close but to my husband and I, he will always be our darling little baby boy."

She smiles sadly, folding up the piece of paper on which she had penned her speech and moving away from the stand to retake her seat at the front row.

I wipe furiously at my eyes, willing them to stop leaking. I am certain that my makeup has run and that my eyes are red and puffy but I can't do anything to help it. Mary squeezes my hand and I squeeze back. I watch her wipe a stray tear but say nothing. On her left hand side, Terry pulls her closer to himself, whispering in her ear that she did great and Travis would be proud.

The priest continues with prayers of thanksgiving, penitence and readiness for death for Travis and I try my hardest to concentrate.

During reflection time, I shut my eyes and picture Travis. I see his bright smile and spot the twinkle in his eyes as he tells a joke, laughing along with Piper and the twins. I'm huddled up in the corner, pretending to be mad at them but finding it extremely difficult to hide my smile.

This is how I want to remember him; not how I found him that night, not mangled up or in a body bag but happy and cheeky and telling jokes at my expense.

The priest commences speaking again, drawing the mass to a close so we can make our way to the cemetery.

Travis's family take some time off to thank everyone who made it to the mass, especially those who won't be coming with us to the burial site and a few tears are shed amidst words of encouragement. After this, we all head for the cemetery.

It's a short ten minute ride that seems to take forever and when we arrive everyone gathers by the grave as Father Grant says a prayer of commendation.

"Let us commend Travis Joel Prescott to the mercy of God, our maker and redeemer." He begins and I shut my eyes, feeling a bit lighter.

Then once he is finished speaking, Mary moves forward to throw some dust into the coffin. It is a sturdy looking contraption made from solid oak with several bouquets of flowers lining the sides. It is rough but at the same time beautiful to look at; it suits Travis's style. The mood is solemn and I watch as the coffin is slowly lowered into the grave.

"We therefore commit his body to the ground; earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust; in the sure and certain hope of the Resurrection to eternal life. Amen"

"Amen." The crowd choruses as the burial comes to an end.