The Funeral

The cemetery was gray, or maybe that’s just the way I remember it. It’d had the feelings of ghosts and lonely corpses even though the sky was clear and the grass was green. I remember seeing a mound of sand, all brown and soil-black, where the gravediggers had cleared a fresh space for him. I imagined that it smelled like vegetables in the hopes that maybe he’d feel somewhat at home there, in the ground. My grandfather had been an excellent cook.

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One thought on “The Funeral

  1. Heather says:

    Hey Mike,
    I know you posted this a while ago but I honestly just discovered your website. Thank you for sharing this. Your reaction to your grandfather’s death reminds me a lot of my reaction to my grandfather’s death. It takes a lot to share something about your own grief. Thank you for doing that!

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