I remember my father, an assertive man, demanding for the worn out shovel,

I remember asking him politely to let me complete this task,

I remember holding the shovel tightly between my blistered hands,

I remember heaving the shovel into the loose soil, underneath the array of green leaves and soft colored flowers, a mixture of purple and yellow,

I remember the tears that fell from my eyes, turning the soul from a rich brown to a dark musty color,

I remember dropping the shovel to my bare feet, the grass a soft color, glistening off the pale sky,

I remember staring, for the longest time, knowing this was the end,

I remember setting the boxes into the shallow grave, my soul breaking at the sight of the white box disappearing beneath the earth,

I remember reaching for the shovel once more, my arms weak, overturning the dry soil,

I remember looking toward the sky, seeing it turn from a pale shade of black to a vibrant mixture of yellow, orange, and red,

But most of all I remember saying it is time to say goodbye to yesterday and hello to today because on this day my lost friend becomes a memory, lost in the wave of time.