Rose petals are my lasting memory of my parents. Like tears, they floated aimlessly down onto the headstone of their grave. Their smell wavered slightly as the wind blew them effortlessly about.
I’d missed my parent’s funeral, they were gone and I would never see them again. Never hear my mother’s laugh or my father clearing his throat to get my attention. Nothing would ever be the same again. No one would ever know me and love me the way they had, no one would hold me when I was sick or care for me as if I was still a child. Alone and lonely I stood trying to feel their presence here, but I felt nothing except the dull ache of loss.