wearers of black

It's always the same...someone is shocked and is just staring at the wall...someone is crying quietly in a corner, someone is crying hysterically, someone is just talking repeatedly telling the story of how it happened, where it was, how said what and what they doctors said and what if this and what if that (as if it matters), people coming, people going, people pretending they understand the pain, there is always an abundance of food and fruits and dates...oh yeah, and the helper is working crazy trying to make everyone enjoy this sad moment, washing the dishes, tea...for all...and there is those who crack jokes, little funny things they say about the person who is gone. We did that at Babaee's passing, and then we felt guilty that we were laughing...

It never changes, same cloths, same stories...no one gets death. It is by far the most mysterious concept of human life...this is why i have been going to LB for the past God...8 years...wow, she is been gone for that long?