A Picture I Didn't Take...

Of a woman in a white dress, standing in front of an audience with a bouquet of freesias in her hands. The veil hides a single tear slowly rolling down her rosy cheek. The silence that descends upon the gathering is like a blanket tucking itself into the crowd. And the minister begins the service. When he finishes, the woman in the snowy gown lays down her bouquet then turns to walk down the aisle as the processional plays for the last time. She leaves behind the flowers- his favorite flowers- on the last part of him that will remain forever. The tombstone reads:

Here lies Phelps

A loving son, brother, & fiance