When you live near a cemetery, death becomes an interesting daily diversion.

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I am unexpectedly working from home today, the result of yesterday's bad muffin choices. (Well, I am assuming it was the muffin I ate yesterday, as it was the lone foreign element in all of the things I ate.)

Working from home is its own mix of tiredness, as there are less files to work with, still the same work, and perversely, the days when you are far from your workstation often become the days when everything seems to be happening, and more.

Thankfully, today seems to be a little less of any of that, but still tiring. (For me, anything unplanned usually is.)

I fell asleep around my email checks, supplier calls and bathroom time, and woke up hungry.

This was good, as I hadn't had anything before then: the idea of food was disgusting this morning.

But right now, it seemed to be everything.

I am lucky to be living in a dorm where we have a canteen, and can call down for food. It's hella convenient in the mornings after famishing runs.

Today, though, I decided to walk down and get something from Burger Machine, just so I could stretch my legs (and my attachment to the bathroom).

As I was waiting for my burger, I spied two funeral hearses. Both white, heading to South Cemetery, their nearness to one another disturbing the drama of each separate loss. I saw some the groups of mourners looking askance at the other group. To me, it seemed like the were daring one another: whose loss is/was greater?


It seemed a rude, unnecessary way to jar people into reality: a first-hand whack upside the head that loss not only occurred everywhere, it could also happen simultaneously.

I was watching them, as one does,** wondering what would happen, when the moment worked itself out. They both played the same funeral march song.

And as the strains of "Paalam Na" wafted from both hearses, the two grieving groups nodded to one another, and went on their way, both secure in the knowledge that loss was universal, but grief was personal.

*I am very, very blessed to have encountered very little loss in my life. My brother Michael died when I was too young to understand, or to grieve about it. My parents have been amazing at sharing him with us, and I know a little of the laughter in our house has given way for him. My grandfather Abel died when I was in college, the summer I passed Math 11, and I know he knew how much I love him for introducing me to breakfast, and the joys of dancing in the rain. Another uncle, my Uncle Roy, passed away recently. I am still dealing with his being gone, and I know he knows that.  I like to believe that they are together somewhere, just like in Elsewhere, one of my favorite versions of life after Earth.
**When they're me, anyway. To people watch is to live.
***It seems weird to be posting about death and stomach pains and whathaveyou but I just don't know.

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