Last Rites
The graveside service over, people are beginning to turn back to the cars. But there's one more rite to be observed here today.
This is, after all, my mother, and I her firstborn child.
I scoop up a handful of earth from a new grave nearby, and place it on the lid of the coffin. Against the polished wood, the little mound of sandy soil manages to look both shocking, and inevitable.
This is rite as articulate action: symbolism that no one needs to have explained.
Standing at the coffin's foot, I pronounce the traditional words.
Earth be warm for you, my mother.
Loretta C. Posch
July 28, 1929 - June 15, 2023
Memory Eternal