I am walking out of the church hugging my father. I suddenly begin to cry and bury my face in my Father's brown woolen jumper. Everyone is around us. I walk awkwardly while I sob into my father's chest across the cool stone floor. We are outside and I hug my father. 
I stand on the stone outside the church as people file out, looking out over the city - the church is above the street. I sit down on the edge of the stone landing outside of the church and watch as they come out and talk to each other. I am wearing a dark blue sweater and it's itchy. My father is now talking to the others who have come out. We are family, so we left first.  I watch the people talking and feel the sharp wind on my cheeks. It is chilly. I walk back up to my father and attach myself to him while he continues to talk to his family. I struggle to understand, it is my second language.