The cold ground

Finally, the day arrives. It's been in the back of the mind since the afternoon that fate took its fatal twist. The day that finalizes the separation of body from planet. The day that inevitably rips what little root has been left in the heart completely from its dirt. The day in which the long last gaze upon the spiritless frame that represents the memories of years. The day finally arrives.

Yeah, there's a tribute ceremony, but it's not the same as a send-off or a time for bon voyage. The ceremony helps serves as the lock and key barring the ones who stay on this earth from the ones who are granted safe passage to the life after this one. The ceremony is a time to share with those outside the family's circle a circumstance or two that characterized the life of the one who left. The send-off happened days before.

The night immediately following the tributes given starts the really l-o-o-o-n-g journey without the person who so long has been a part of your essence. What does one do now? Life seems unimaginable any more. One of the reasons for living has been removed. Why must one go on without his presence? How does one move beyond this point that no one can believed just happened? Putting one foot in front of the other seems a little trite, but it is the only truth to the questions above.

Ah, there's a subject—truth! Bah humbug! Reality is the only game in town, not truth. Truth is lying in the cold ground.