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We reat stor a hole Nobody can meet my eyes There is an air of shock and disbelief The little Polish htened Her eyes dart about nervously

Baba and I are dressed entirely in black I hold a handkerchief tomouth while Baba says a little prayer I watch everybody throw coins on top of the coffin

I kneel down and throw the first clump of soil on his casket

‘My darling Sergei, please forgive ive me that I wasn’t there to protect you,’ I whisper softly ‘I know I promised that I wouldn’t cry and make your spirit anxious, but I just can’t bear this sorrow Never in to stand, but I stumble backwards I feel an arm come around my back

‘Don’t shed further tears, Tasha Love is eternal He will love you fros hollow in my ears

Then everybody else throws their handful of dirt, and Baba comes to me With her hand firmly around my waist she leads me away

I let her take me back to the house At the door she stops and holds out a hand She is asking for my handkerchief It is our custom to throay our used handkerchiefs after a funeral It is a way of re the mourners that one’s sorrows should start to diminish once the funeral has passed and not carried much farther into the future

Automatically, I put my handkerchief into her hand

‘Shall we have so both our handkerchiefs in a plastic bag

I shake my head ‘I’ll just lie down for a while,’ I say

She smiles ‘Yes Perhaps you should have a nap I’ll wake you up in a couple of hours and we can have lunch together’

I nod vaguely and enter the house The house is even o through o upstairs to my room