Despite the rain that day, I forewent the umbrella.
After everything, soaked clothes were the least of my concerns.
Watching them lower him down was the most painful thing I ever had to endure
But he’ll never know it.
I lingered long after everyone else had left.
I only wish he had the common courtesy to follow suit.
Now, here I stand two years later
with no idea how I made it this far without him.
Sometimes, I think about jumping in after him
but then I realize worrying doesn’t suit me.
I mean he brought us joy long before he took himself from us.
Why should now be any different?