I am looking up at the house from the bottom of the yard. It's dark, no moon. The house is bright. My mom was in her room. I was bringing her meds, food, climbing onto the bed next to her and hugging her. She wore her white nightgown. So soft.
In the casket, in her sweater, her arm still felt like her arm. I remember telling Cherie this, she was afraid. I put my face into the casket, to my mama's arm and I nuzzled her for the last time. Her arm felt like her arm!
It's dark, no moon.
