I stand there and watch him.. His shoulders dropped. I want so bad to reach out.. Yet am afraid..
Am afraid that he is broken.. And it will break me.. Am afraid once i touch him, i will soak in his pain..
’29 years is all he got.. It is the Lord…’ the words of the clergyman are carried away by the wind.
My focus is on him.. I can feel my mood shift.. A storm is raging within me.. i step forward.
The few people separating us can feel my movement. They step aside..
I stretch out my hand.. And everything isn’t the same..
‘Let the family take a handful of soil..’.
Our heads are bowed down.. Women wailing only makes it worse. I can literally touch pain.. brokenness..
‘We will not hold onto the soil.. we will let it go’..
The sound of soil lumps hitting the coffin is the final straw..
We may fight it, but as the sun rises, so will it set..
I hold on tightly to him.. He is silently weeping…. It is the worst feeling to watch someone you love break at your sight.. Yet you can’t do a thing..
I stand there holding on.. It is 2:02 p.m. So far from sunset, yet the sun has sunk.. There’s no light.. There’s nothing..
The clouds are in position.. Sunset is supposed to be beautiful.. A celebration of a sunny day well spent..Yet here we are.. Just in the afternoon.. Watching a storm build up.. With heads bowed down and downcast souls.. Our hands with traces of red soils..
Early sunset is a bitch and sure hurts more than a bitch..