The First Week at the Funeral Home
I offer to carry her husband to the car.
She accepts—the gray urn is heavier than
anticipated. The weight of it reminds
me of my son when he was latched to my hip.
She asks if the urn will tip, and I reassure
her that the top’s sealed, he won’t spill,
but to ease her mind we secure the seat belt.
I want to say something, but nothing
comes, so I ask if I can give her a hug.
She accepts. I don’t tell her that she has
my grandmother’s name. I don’t tell her
that everything will be okay. She thanks
me. I say, take care, and wave
as she pulls out of the parking lot
with the cremains of the only man
she’s ever loved, the person she’s
lived with for the last 45 years. At home,
she may place him on a mantle,
or tuck him onto a shelf in her closet,
or sit him on the couch as she watches
their favorite show for the first time
since he passed, or ease him onto a pillow
in their bed—the urn’s steel reflecting
the light from their bedside lamp
that he’d extinguish each night before they slept.
Cat Dixon is the author of What Happens in Nebraska (Stephen F. Austin University Press, 2022) along with six other poetry chapbooks and collections. She is a poetry editor with The Good Life Review. Recent poems published in Thimble Lit Mag, Amethyst Review, and Moon City Review.
