Three weeks ago this past Saturday, I became an orphan. My beautiful mother slipped from my arms into eternity’s embrace, and with a soft kiss goodbye, my siblings and I became parent-less adults.
A bitter mid-western winter rendered beautiful in all its stark solemnity this Missouri that she so loved. The place of her birth, and now the setting of her long sleep. We gathered in her presence, where we comforted and were comforted in return.
We climbed a steep and rocky hill, braced ourselves against a bone-chilling wind, and whispered each our own secret farewell. Gloved hands taking turns resting briefly against claret lacquered walnut. Fingers plucking a white blossom momento. A little boy’s kiss blowing toward the sky. Toward heaven.
A daughter who was the last one to leave them alone, her mother and brother reunited, side by side.
Three weeks ago.