Carrying the Weight

**Title:** *The Weight of Goodbye*

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The air was thick with the scent of lilies, mingling with the dampness that clung to the graves. The funeral was small, intimate—a gathering of those who truly knew and loved Sarah. The sky was overcast, a blanket of grey that mirrored the heaviness in Anna's heart.

Anna stood at the edge of the crowd, her hands clutching the program tightly. Her fingers traced the outline of Sarah's face on the cover, a face that was always full of life, now reduced to a static image. The tears had long since dried on Anna's cheeks, but the ache in her chest remained, a dull, persistent throb.

The eulogy was beautiful, filled with stories of Sarah's kindness, her infectious laughter, her boundless energy. Words that painted a picture of a woman who had touched so many lives. But as the pastor spoke, Anna felt a sharp pang of anger. How could they sum up a life in just a few paragraphs? How could they reduce Sarah to memories and anecdotes when she had been so much more?

Anna wanted to scream, to shout at the unfairness of it all. Sarah was supposed to be here, standing beside her, not lying in a coffin beneath the earth. The thought of never hearing her voice again, never sharing another cup of coffee, never laughing together until their sides ached—it was unbearable.

She remembered the day they met, two wide-eyed college freshmen navigating the maze of their new world. Sarah had been the one to break the ice, her easygoing nature drawing Anna in like a magnet. They had been inseparable ever since, sharing every joy, every sorrow, every triumph, and every defeat.

And now, Sarah was gone.

The crowd began to disperse, leaving only a few stragglers lingering by the grave. Anna watched as people laid flowers, said their final goodbyes, and walked away. But Anna couldn't move. She couldn't bring herself to leave Sarah behind.

A gust of wind blew, rustling the leaves of a nearby oak tree. Anna closed her eyes, letting the cool breeze wash over her, trying to find some semblance of peace. But all she felt was emptiness, a void that seemed to swallow her whole.

"Anna."

The voice was soft, gentle, like a whisper on the wind. She turned to see an older woman, Sarah's mother, standing beside her. Her eyes were red-rimmed, but there was a quiet strength in her gaze.

"She wouldn't want you to be sad," Sarah's mother said, her voice trembling but firm. "She would want you to remember the good times, to keep her spirit alive."

Anna nodded, but the words felt hollow. How could she find solace in memories when the person she shared them with was gone?

"I know it's hard," Sarah's mother continued, reaching out to take Anna's hand. "But grief is the price we pay for love. And Sarah loved you so much."

A tear slipped down Anna's cheek, followed by another, until they were flowing freely once more. She squeezed Sarah's mother's hand, drawing comfort from the warmth of her touch.

"I miss her so much," Anna whispered, her voice breaking.

"I know," Sarah's mother replied, her own tears falling. "We all do. But we'll get through this. Together."

Anna nodded, feeling the weight of her grief begin to lift, if only slightly. She knew the pain would never fully go away, but maybe, just maybe, she could find a way to carry it without letting it consume her.

With one last glance at Sarah's grave, Anna turned and walked away, Sarah's mother by her side. The wind continued to blow, carrying with it the faintest hint of hope.