A week or more had passed
Since my wife was laid away.
I could find no reason
To stay home another day.
I was greeted at the office
With “sorry for your loss”.
I appreciated all of these,
And the words from my boss.
“James, I had a real good time
At the funeral of your wife.”
Then he realized what he’d said
And wished he could end his life.
But I laughed at these words of his
For I knew just what he meant.
It was a Catholic funeral service
But interpreted for a Protestant.
Peggye’s niece had come to town
And with the priest arranged it.
So as the service progressed
He would stop to explain it.
Irene, or ‘Rene as she was known
Was the niece who asked this of him
And also gave the eulogy
That described Peggye to the brim.
So I understood what he meant
When those words he said.
He was offering his condolences,
Not making fun of the dead.
Perhaps he had a good time
But I was rather sad.
I got through the service okay
But the cemetery was sort of bad.
Even now I cannot forget
Something I’ve seldom told.
The priest greeted all her family,
But left me out in the cold.
Just a little thing, I must admit
But still it nagged at me.
I was only the husband,
Not part of the family.
jhs