By David Henson
“We bickered, but we loved each other,” the gray-haired man says, as wind-blown rain tries to invade the living room through the picture window.
The younger man sighs. “We’ll have her cremated. Okay, Dad?”
“Fine, son.”
“You understand, right?”
“Life goes on. She always said that.”
The son closes his eyes and shakes his head. “Dad, listen. We’re talking about—”
“Should we get a paw print?” the mother says, entering the room.
The older man looks at the woman, then the collar in his hands, and begins sobbing.
The son, shoulders slumping, stares at his parents, unsure whom to comfort first.
Heartbreaking on multiple levels. Nicely done.
The grief of losing a pet. Beautiful words.