Chapter 9 - Five Empty Pews
At eighty-two, I returned to the chapel where we buried Diane.
Not for a funeral.
The church renamed its food pantry after her.
THE DIANE WHITAKER COMMUNITY PANTRY.
Darnell stood beside me.
Vanessa.
Diana, now a teenager.
Beverly.
Mrs. Pette was gone by then.
So was her husband.
Deshawn had retired.
Harold too.
Time had been thinning our old circle.
The chapel looked smaller.
I walked to the front.
Then turned.
Years earlier, five people sat there while I buried my wife.
Now every pew was full.
Students who received scholarships.
Widows who got emergency housing.
Families who used the pantry.
Volunteers.
Neighbors.
People Diane never met.
Darnell stood beside me.
“I should've been here.”
I knew exactly what he meant.
Her funeral.
“Yes.”
He cried.
I put my arm around him.
“You can't go back.”
“I know.”
“But you're here now.”
That didn't erase it.
It mattered anyway.
After the ceremony, Darnell walked to Diane's grave alone.
I waited.
When he returned, his eyes were red.
“What'd you tell her?”
He smiled.
“That the tickets weren't worth it.”
May you like
I nodded.
“Good.”
