Shelby died. I didn’t know her. I was a tag-along guest at her memorial service.
The ceremony was beautiful. So many people expressing their appreciation for Shelby’s life, and their disappointment and grief at her death.
Toward the end, the pastor led the family up the aisle and past the gathered throng. I watched Shelby’s daughter walking up the aisle after the ceremony with her family. I didn’t know her name. She must have been about ten years old. She was holding her mother’s boxed ashes cradled in her slender arms. She had a look of controlled contentment on her face, not quite a smile. Bravest thing I’ve ever seen. Stoic…serenity…admiration.
I felt I knew her.