My Last Moment With Daddy

I looked past the priest and saw auntie and grandma. They were cuddled, holding each other up. Grandma being Catholic was wearing her purple scarf. Even though Daddy’s funeral was outside, a priest was here. Auntie Maria was holding her red umbrella. It was sprinkling, of course. It always sprinkles during a D’agosto funeral. Ask any D’agosto and they will admit this. Behind my relatives I saw a younger lady bent over flowers. She was touching them in a delicate, respectful, lovely way. Marigolds and carnations. I thought I might see her face, but didn’t. The priest droned on. He was trying to save us. Everyone seemed to wear flowers today, lots of calicos and cottons. I was wearing a plain black dowdy dress chosen by my mother. I saw Daddy behind the flower lady. He waved before he disappeared. I was only six but I have always remembered that last moment with him.