Waiting

There is a procession coming down Everett Street. It must have been somebody important who died, and apparently a military person. They are led by a group of men in military dress blues, at the head of that group a single man in a white uniform - Navy perhaps? Followed by a horse drawn carriage, two shimmering white horses pulling, and a flag draped coffin in it. Behind that, a riderless horse, a bay paint, led by a man. Then a limousine, then a small group of people walking, in three rows across. Then, an endless stream of cars. It's hard to tell which cars are a part of the funeral and which have just found themselves in the midst of the crowd.

I am coming down Lake Road and traffic is completely stopped here to allow them to pass. A single uniformed police officer directs traffic through, and a flagger in an orange vest holds my lane back. Someone behind me is impatient, and they are honking their horn.

I am impatient too, my mind filled with agitated selfish thoughts, until I realize - I am here to feel the bright sunshine warm my car, and the welcome cooling breeze waft through. I have been to Trader Joe's and my car is redolent of basil, and my mouth is watering for the tomato salad I will make tonight. I have spent the afternoon with my teenaged son, setting up a new aquarium, and I have seen my daughter find her car battery dead and solve the problem herself, and the embrace of my wonderful husband waits for me at home. I am here, and this procession is the final salute to that person who lies in a coffin upon a horse drawn carriage, who will never again enjoy these things. Surely I can put aside my impatience, just for this moment, and be thankful.