It was gray and cloudy on the day of the funeral. Like God was setting the theme for the day.

Dan and I had gone to the viewing at the funeral home the day before. I have not had many people close to me who have died, but I remember when I was very young, a woman in our church had passed away.

My mother took my sisters and I to her viewing. There were a lot of people there just sitting in chairs in front of the casket. Occasionally, one would go up and say something. I remembered my mom telling me when I asked that they were saying goodbye to her or saying a prayer.

There were barely any people at the funeral home, and when we asked the funeral director where the viewing room was, he seemed surprised.

“Really?” He asked. “Well, follow me, we haven’t had many visits for her.”

He led us down a narrow hallway to an artificially lit, bare room. There was one small vase of flowers on a table by the casket. The card said it was from a church congregation. The air in the room was saturated with loneliness and sadness.

When we left, I could still feel the thick air of sadness in my lungs, and I could still feel the loneliness on my skin. It was so thick in the air that when I got home, I took a shower to shed it from my skin.

At the funeral, as we were walking in, I heard someone calling my name. It was another former employee at the same restaurant.

He was a teenager when he worked there, also, and I think he had actually been friends with the girl who had passed.

It was a shock to my system to see him there. We agreed to meet at a nearby diner and catch up over coffee.