Tears in the produce aisle of Wal-Mart.

Hugs at the gas station.

An affectionate gaze at the pizza shop.

Created by death.

To you, I’m all the depth without any superficial.

The person who helped you walk through the shadow.

The person who stood with you as you said your last goodbye.

As the lid was closed, I was there.

I am not your friend.

I am not your bar buddy.

We will never talk sports, or politics or local gossip.

I am almost your brother.

Almost family.

I am your funeral director.

And I carry your death experience.

I carry in my own heart your grief, you insecurities, your hardest moment.

I remind you of him, of her … in many cases, I remind you of them.

I carry the depth.  Your deep is in me.

The depth of this community is my association.

Everywhere I go, I carry death.

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