Sunday morning at 3:00 you left. You didn't say goodbye you just simply checked out. The call awakened me and alerted me to the emergency room. I remember praying that you would not be in pain. Upon arrival I rushed into the ER where a man helped me, odd there was no one else there, any other time the ER would have been full. The man told me to wait a minute and the nurse would come and get me. A tall black nurse came to me meek and silent like a old dog, and walked with me to a small dark room where my Step-Mother sat weeping. She told me you were gone without standing to her feet. I fell to the floor and cried. Minutes passed, I don't know how long but the tall black nurse returned and I told her I wanted to see you. We followed her to a room which was softly lit and you were laid upon a bed, still. I cried on your chest and kissed your face and held your hand. You were still warm but so quiet, so still. The tears would not cease and soon my throat hurt from sobbing, air was all around me but I couldn't breathe. Phone calls were made and others arrived. More tears were shed, many more. I kissed you goodbye on your forehead which had become cold while all the tears were shed.

The day after the funeral I went to your grave. I was afraid to go, but so compelled I went anyway. Something just came over me and I knew I had to go there. The flowers were piled up in a heap over fresh dirt. I knelt. I bowed my head. Why was I here? There were no tears. I was not afraid like I had anticipated. A warm gentle breeze brushed my skin. Why was I not surcome to tearing again? A sweet feeling came over me and I knew then in my heart that you were not there. You were gone.