I buried my best friend Sunday.
It was a week after her death. Relatives had to come from many places and the funeral mass was in another city. Logistics.
It was a bright, sunny day with some clouds sailing across the sky. The wind blew fiercely in a reminder of her spirit. I will have to raise twice as much hell now that she is gone.
Her grave is in a plot near the side of the cemetery and across the fence are railroad tracks. She liked trains so now their clickety-clack will sing to her as they travel by.
I caught myself looking around to try to find her walking up. We would have stood side by side to honor the fallen. I was a guard of one.
It was melancholy. That is a word that is not used too much.
Melancholy.....
(My earlier tribute to her: http://www.democraticunderground.com/10028502612)
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That you lost your best friend
Sunday was the anniversary of the loss of a friend many years ago. It's still difficult, after all these years.
