The coffin was so small.

Every time I think back to that day, I find myself lingering on that detail.
I'm not sure why I didn't expect it - you weren't even 5ft tall by the end.
Yet, I expected somehow, in death, that you would be. Bigger.

I was told that the final song would be something which I did not think suited you.
Your son didn't tell me it would be something else.

"Into the West" by Annie Lennox.
It was the song your son chose for your husband. He said it was only right you were granted that same respect.
There was a silent agreement that one day, it will be the final song I choose for him.

"The ships have come to carry you home", Lennox says.
And your son and I sit, staring at your coffin. It is still so small.
We do not look at each other. We both cry regardless.

I will miss you. And I will keep missing you. I do not think I was ready to let you go - could I ever be?
I hope, I hope so much, that I will not have to hear that song in the same context for a very long time.
I hope Annie Lennox will not have to ask me why I weep as I am staring at a bigger coffin for a very long time.

I think, one day, I will also be in a coffin. Perhaps, medium-sized. And that song will play.

One day, I will also go Into the West.
But, I think not for a while yet.