Stark Reality

Digging your husbands grave, exactly 4 feet in depth brings home the reality of death. On the Friday before Bryons funeral ,Casey, his friend Joe and I did this. I tried not to think about what we were doing. I wasn't sure if I could do this, but I did, for Bryon. The service was nice, that is if any funeral service can be deemed "nice" The forty or so people who attended were treated to Ontario's fineset, the Blackfly. Someone must have told them there was fresh meat in town for they came prepared to dine. As we stood there listening to the minister I could hear Bryon whisper in my ear" take a look around Wendy, watch all the people trying to listen while their hands are busy swating the flys, it really is funny:" A smile passed quickly across my face. As people left I took the shovel from Casey and covered Bryon with the earth. I couldn't finsih doing it, Casey and Joe did. I had brought a solar frog on a moterclycle to put on his grave. The next day Bryon and I spent a few quiet minutes while I put bricks around the base, filled it with white rock and placed the frog on it. I planted 2 small cedar trees on either side of his headstone. A part of me wanted to dig him up, to bring him home, to be with me. But he is truly home. I miss him so much. I feel numb.