Journal entry by Eve Ilsen — 16 minutes ago
The memorial for the young woman, whom most of us knew for years, was beautiful and heart-wrenching. The outpouring of love from the community is palpable, present, supporting.
Nothing is enough to heal the pain of such a young death. Not even a member of the family, still my heart hurts.
She herself is surely being cared for in the other world. Her grieving family must slowly heal here, in this imperfect world.
The grave is not far from my beloved's. Her family also chose not to enclose her in a coffin, but to lay her straight on Mother Earth.
It rained gently throughout the funeral.
When the funeral was over, I, along with a number of others, went the few steps more to visit Zalman's grave, z'l. Then we turned to look where we had walked from, the new grave still being filled, and a rainbow filled the sky to the east.
Before I left for the memorial and funeral, I had cooked a pot of lentils for the family.
The house is still redolent of the scent.
The lentils themselves have disappeared.
I have searched the car, the garage, the kitchen, the entrance hall. I have looked on the stove and in the refrigerator.
Surely they are somewhere; my nose tells me so.
Please join me in pleading that they reveal themselves before I go to sleep.