As I stand, I instinctively reach to brush off my knee. Dust clings there as if to remind me I am still stuck here on this earth. There is something which approaches holy that happens as I stand between the living and the dead
With that one simple movement, a whole lifetime seems to wash away before my eyes. …My day will end with my black shoes sitting on the kitchen floor and a dark suit hanging in the closet. I will settle into an evening routine and do it all again tomorrow. They will not. Their tomorrow will look very different than their today.
Spoken words interrupt her memories; a prayer for comfort and for hope in the coming days. She will go home tonight and sleep on new sheets a friend has so lovingly given her. Tomorrow she will wake and have notes to write and dishes to return. She is thankful and she is tired. She stands to embrace the pastor as he walks towards her. She cannot wait to get out of these shoes.