Urge To Linger

After the funeral service we walked across the parking lot to the Memorial Gardens for interment of the ashes;

When that service ended, folks headed to the Parish Hall to do what one does there after a funeral;

I turned to follow the group, but then had the unexplained urge to linger;

Turning back, I noticed an old friend, head bent down, looking at the stone marker for his deceased wife.

I walked over, put my arm around his heaving shoulders, squeezed hard, and lingered there with him in silence.

As we walked back to the Parish Hall in silence, I recognized that moment would be indelibly etched in my memory, and contemplated how much in life is missed by ignoring the urge to linger, by not lingering long enough (apologies to Cohen) to recognize the light shining in through the cracks.

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