(For A.C.)
They say that elephants have funerals when they lose a member of the herd. They gather around the dead, sometimes for days on end, swaying over the body. People say they are in mourning, and after this period of mourning, they continue on. But I think they are waiting for resurrection as they stand around the dead. I think they are hoping, and not mourning. I think their mourning doesn't begin until they realize the body won't be getting up to join them again and they need to leave it behind.

I too, can't help but stop to circle back and stand over the bodies of those that peeled off from my herd. I nudge them with my toes, I try to lift them to their feet, and when they fall limp like ragdolls, I breathe and tell myself that this is the way of the world. And I shake them to be sure, and then I keep moving down the trail, always looking at their forms behind me.

And how I miss. There are empty caverns where they were, ghosts on the path at my side. It keeps me walking backwards every now and then, ever hopeful for the sound of footsteps on the trail. But they don't come.

I would tell you that you were in my stories. I would tell you how things are. I would tell you that I think the elephants are hopeful when they gather over a body, and only in mourning when they keep on walking.

 

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