Life and Death Stories
The stories kept coming. For two hours a non-stop stream of people paid their condolences to the young widow as she stood in front of her wife’s slate gray coffin covered with white lilies and white roses. One by one they told their story of meeting, what meant the most, and the loss they grieved. After the visitation, the stories continued on the back patio with the sound of August cicadas and more than one bottle of wine selected from the cellar without care as to whether it was the finest or the cheapest. “Remember the time when she…?” “How
