It is quiet.One can barely feel the wind as it flutters the leaves on the trees.The sun is out,though it is not very hot.At 3pm,it is an almost perfect day.
They stand together,all in black.They stand together,huddled close.They stand together,united by their grief.They stand together.
‘Ashes to ashes.Dust to dust,’ says the man in purple.
A few discreet sniffles are heard.The lady at the front lets out a drawn out wail of despair.She wears dark glasses,probably to hide her reddened eyes.The tears that track down her cheeks can be seen by all.
She steps forward to set down the flowers in her hands.As she lays them down,she prostrates herself on top.She just cannot help it.Her only desire is to be closer to him.
Her son,the light of her life.Her son,whose promising life was cut short by an encounter with armed robbers.Ripping her beating heart out of her chest would hurt less than letting her son go.
Two others step forward and help her to stand upright.It is difficult to get close to her,sadness surrounds her like a shroud.
She cannot bear to watch as the casket is lowered.She looks over the land at the other tombstones.Some still white with fresh flowers beneath them.Others are grayish brown in color,with dried-up tendrils climbing up and down.The remembered and the forgotten.
She wonders,do the spirits watch and eagerly await another to join their ranks?
*Originally posted on Storymoja.