Standing Alone in the Rain (With a small vase of roses)

(How do we say goodbye?)

“Grief’s arms reach long and deep, its wiry fingertips scratching the skin of your throat, pressing, releasing.”

This is what I remember thinking and feeling as my brother, Valentino , and I gave a last, gentle push of Mom’s gurney into the hearse . This very same man , who moments earlier, wrapped mom’s body in a…