Roses

It ended with roses.

I process the funeral in snatches.

Glimpses, even.

I see my family spilling out into the cemetery

Long-lost cousins twice-removed,

Great granduncles,

Kids of the kids of the kids of so-and-so.

I haven't ever spoken to half of them

And they shake my hand

And hug me

And hug everyone.

So, outside.

It is cold.

Freezing.

Everyone carries the coffin to her final resting place and then

We let the guy read the thing

A psalm, I think.

We sing.

We listen.

There are tears

But I shed none.

I'm not sure why.

What's wrong with me?

We move forward to put roses

Pink, red roses

On the casket

As they lower it into the ground

Forever.

There is no going back, I remind myself.

Gone. Gone. Gone.

Underground. 

Forever.

For

Ever.

I don't know why I'm not crying.

I should be.

Everyone else is.

Instead I stand there

Stoically

Barely blinking an eye

And then I feel like laughing 

Which makes me hate myself even more.

I can't laugh.

I don't laugh.

I hold it in

Because how disrespectful would that be

To the dead?

So I mourn

In my own way

Without crying

Emotionless.

Maybe that makes me weird

But I can't stop thinking

About those roses

Piled on top

Before she left us forever.

The roses

Marking the end of her life

But it was beautiful, really.

This is what she wanted.

So the roses saw her off to the afterlife

After a beautiful

Incredible

Long

Life.

Roses, accompanying her

Back home.