The Smell of Roses

March 5, 2011
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The room was filled with roses, people gathered and the feeling of grief was palpable in the air. It was my grandfather's funeral and tears were flowing out of everyone... except me. I couldn't seem to produce a single tear in this moment of loss for our family. I sat in shock watching my mother break down and hearing comforts I wished would just stop being uttered. My grandfather's body lay in the coffin looking as if he were only asleep, I knew better now. I realized then how death was always waiting and it reached all of us even when we don't want it to. A tremendous grief emerged and engulfed me. It is a memory that showed me that hile death is woven into our whives, we must go on. I won't ever forget that memory. A memory tainted with tears and the beautiful smell of roses...

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