In February 2022 my colleague and I went to see” Mrs C at home. For a few days already, we had been planning to visit the grave of her husband who died a year ago.
We knew her husband, Mr. N, very well. He was a bon vivant and quite outspoken. You could hardly miss him whenever he was around. He had bags of humor and inspired a lot of sympathy in people he met. His two passions were Johnny and dogs. He had survived innumerable ordeals so that people almost thought he was immortal. Even so, we had to let him go in the winter of 2021.
Mrs C and Mr N had a very close and passionate relationship.
They married not long before he died, and they very kindly asked us then to act as witnesses at their wedding.
My colleague and I accompanied Mrs C during his funeral. We found it very emotional, not only seeing how grief overwhelmed her but also remembering the road we had travelled together with Mr N.
Here we are, a year later, on our way to the cemetery.
Mr N was buried as a poor person. It’s impossible to find him among all those burial mounds without names and crosses. Deeply sad. The cemetery’s overseer does everything he can to help us.
In the end we find the alley of Mr N’s grave. Mrs C is shocked by the impersonal sphere of the spot. Immediately, we start making plans and take pictures, while listing all the things to buy to decorate the place in honour of his memory.
That day it’s raining cats and dogs, it’s cold, the emotion is palpable.
And then, suddenly, everything changed. First, each of us spares a thought for Mr N. We recall our memories of him – and we even manage to laugh. Then we play his favourite music. And then something happened which I’ll never forget. It stopped raining, the clouds opened, and the sun lit the cemetery alley.
Think of it whatever you like, but it seemed as if on that day Mr N was with us for a while.