Saying Goodbye in Kalamazoo
We came out to Kalamazoo to say goodbye. Graveside only, no church — the service was at Mountain Home Cemetery, the city's first public burial ground, laid out in 1849, fifty-four acres of markers going back to the early families. Under the green tent: three folding chairs spaced apart, potted geraniums lined up at the edge of the grave, masks on under a cloudless sky. That is how goodbyes go this spring.
The girls went up to the casket together, and one of them left a small bunch of flowers on the lid before stepping back. Afterward the hugging started at the edge of the tent and went on a long time, everyone taking turns.
Across the drive the baby ended up on the grass in her white cardigan, and the adults sat down around her in their dark clothes, which loosened things a little.
Back at the house by evening the two girls were in the hammock strung between the trees, half changed out of their funeral clothes, making faces and swinging.