My parents skipped my husband and children’s funeral for my sister’s birthday—six months later, one headline about me sent the entire family into panic

because I had never seen the ocean during winter.

Then I told them the truth.

I miss you every minute, I whispered. But I’m still here.

The wind moved gently through the cemetery trees.

There was no answer.

Of course there was no answer.

There was only cold air, morning light, and my hand resting against the names carved into stone—their names, forever.