I Said Goodbye To My Husband Six Months Ago Until I Heard His Voice In A Grocery Store

waiting nearby, and placed a trembling palm on the polished wood of the coffin that supposedly held Thomas Whitaker, the man I had slept beside for forty-one years.

The casket was closed.

They told me it was kinder that way. They said the accident had been too severe, that my memories deserved to remain untouched, that I should keep Thomas in my mind continue reading …