Gone, but not forgotten

We couldn't have asked for a much prettier day to see you off, Tom.

It was the kind of Sunday gem that brought us west from a cold climate back in the heady dot.com days.

The sky was clear and blue, the sun was smiling, the temperature was in the low '60s.  

In February. 

As if a compassionate Mother Nature were purposely easing our passage through this trying ceremony.

Our journey began in the bay, where the water was calm.

In accordance with your final wishes, we went to the ocean. 

Here is the shadow of the Golden Gate Bridge, symbol of

the city you loved and called home for most of the last seventeen years.

Once the boat had crossed over into the Pacific 

we left the cabin and congregated on the back deck. 
Roses appeared,

as did a basket of petals and

your earthly remains.

Moments later you had become one with the ocean, and the petals were afloat,

as was this single rose.

All too soon your sudden passing was that much more final. 
We sat back down somber, quiet, deflated, headed back across the bay,
 which glowed

and shimmered, 

your life gone, 

but not forgotten.