I went to my friend’s funeral,
this morning.
It was cold and grey,
not as cold as expected,
But,
just as grey.
Her family was represented,
as were her friends,
it was a solemn occasion.
She was buried,
according to the rites and customs,
of her people,
her ancestors,
and that is how,
it should be.
Thirteen men said Kaddish,
which is beautiful.
I am not a religious woman,
but,
I believe in tradition,
I believe in the importance of acknowledging,
the passing of life,
I believe in respect,
I believe in the sanctity of friendship,
I believe in the soul.
It’s a hard thing to watch,
your friend being lowered,
into the ground.
Betsy, is the first friend,
I lose to death.
I have lost loved ones,
quite a few,
grand-papa,
dad,
grandmaman,
but,
never friends,
I guess that is rare for a person of,
middle years.
To know you will,
never hear her voice,
again,
that’s tough.
She was one of those people,
you could call,
to bail you out of jail,
she would have worn,
a disapproving frown,
but,
she would have come.
You don’t get,
many of those.
I know she rests in peace,
she was an honourable,
woman.
Later girls,
BB
