Raw grief clamped me to the spot and left me immobilised. For me the sun no longer shines, birds no longer sing and all hope has evaporated. I felt I would never leave that place; I could just stay there, forever, always, near him but not with him. The others were just blurs, not real, names and faces, all of us in collective despair. For a crazy moment I imagined what we might look like from above. I saw us as an image magnified on Google earth, tiny black spots amidst chalky white stones, all meaningless from a far but so terribly important up close.
I wore his favourite dress, tight, low cut and black of course. I’d sprayed my body with the last birthday gift he’d given me – Angel; a scent, he said conjured up mystery when there was none.
My sister supported me as I swooned up against her.
“You know he loved you,” she whispered.
As he was lowered into the earth, my body seemed to float away, separating itself from the pain. I was making a noise, long, purring sobs came from somewhere deep inside me and I rocked backward and forward with alarming confidence considering the height of my heels.
I blocked out the world and thought only of his face, his piercing hazel eyes, staring deep into mine as we held each close.
Aware I was being watched I looked up to see those same hazel eyes seeking me out. Younger but the same. He was striding toward me, and how I dreaded this moment. But I looked straight at him, my skin tingling in primitive recognition.
“How dare you come here!” he growled.
He grabbed me by the arm and pulled me away from my sister.
“Haven’t you hurt my mother enough? Just go, go!"
I tried to speak but the words wouldn't come, so I obeyed my lover's son and left straight away.