Julian
ALINA MASTERS
1984 – 2013
Wife and beloved mother.
In God's hands, we trust.
The rain pours down around my umbrella as I stare her headstone.
Trapped.
I’m trapped in a sadness so deep, I don’t know how to escape it.
Every morning she comes to my house.
Every night, I die a little when she leaves.
I read the words carved in front of me again.
ALINA MASTERS
1984 – 2013
Wife and beloved mother.
In God's hands, we trust.
I lean down and brush the dust from her name. I rearrange the pink lilies I’ve placed in the vase. I touch her face in the small oval photo, watching as she stares back at me, unblinking.
I step back and put my hands into the pockets of my black overcoat. I come here twice a week to pay my respects to a woman who gave me my children.
My wife.
A woman w
