27 black umbrellas in the morning rain. As they lower her coffin I realize I can’t recall her name. Preacher says something about ashes and dust loss and gain. I still can’t remember her name. 27 umbrellas move silently away as I stand alone 2 sites down where her coffin still remains. What is her name??!! Nobody here to say goodbye. Nobody came. Maybe they can’t remember her name. I look to the sky. More rain. The wind blows through my soul but I feel no pain. I should feel guilty I can’t remember her name. I should leave she’s dead just the same. Then I look at the headstone. Now I remember as I read my name.

I’m a 48 yr old woman from Calgary Alberta.
I have two grown sons and three step kids.
I work with special needs children.
Baseball, beer and writing make me smile.

You can read more of my writing on Facebook.