Husband crying. Husband hurting.
He drives. Not knowing where.
The car takes him here. To his buried heart.
She feels closer. Why does she feel closer?
Her tombstone. It looks like a coffin.
Is she in the pure white snow?
Can I still touch her body?
Can I hold her?
He aches to hold her.
To feel whole.
To have direction and light and peace.
He snaps this photo instead and sends it to you.
He tells you her body feels closer because it looks like her white coffin.
It breaks your heart.
Maybe the two halves of your jointly broken hearts can fit together as one.
Maybe she is closer.
Knitting you back together.
Never leaving you alone in your grief.
Never leaving you alone.