At My Husband’s Funeral, My Son Whispered Six Words

it will be too late.

…

On the day of my husband Eduardo’s funeral, the air smelled of marigolds and damp earth.

I wore a black dress. A shawl that wasn’t long enough to dry my tears.

Beside me stood Diego, my son. His chin was hard, his gaze fixed on the coffin as if it were an unfinished task.

Since Eduardo died of a sudden heart attack, Diego has become continue reading …