In the moonlit night I walked down to the shore’s edge, my heart splintering with every step. I pried open the urn and let his ashes drift with the wind out to the ocean. Sobbing, I walked along the empty beach front until the urn emptied. When it felt too light to even contain a feather, I hurled it into the ocean we loved so much until the urn disappeared.
Slow and steady, I closed the distance to the home we’d shared so many years where now another man and his grandchildren slept, my mind as empty as the urn.
Ralph met me at the slider doors and I fell into his arms and cried; cried for my loss and what I’d just done. I staggered to my bed, dusted off my sandy feet and stifled sobs.
The bedroom door creaked open; Ralph appeared and said “Claire, I’m here for you so don’t be afraid.”
Too emotionally drained and too tired to say get the hell out, I closed my eyes and slept.
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