The Hearse

The man stood there on the sidewalk of the street, blowing his nose with a napkin from the restaurant he had just walked out of. "Woman's Work" by Kate Bush was playing, as it muffled out the street sound and the sniffling of his nose. Although there were a lot of cars driving by at high speeds, there was almost no one on the sidewalk, and he tried to get across the street when he saw someone coming his way, as to not make eye contact with the person.

On closer look, he was not just blowing his nose, he was crying, tears slowly coming down his cheek, him wiping them off of his face before they dropped to the ground. He didn't want to be asked if he was okay or to explain why he, a grown man, was standing there, crying on a street after just walking out of a restaurant. He made his way to the other side of the street before a man, talking on his phone, made it too close to him.

As he crossed the street and composed himself, Aimee Mann's “Wise Up” could be heard. As he was walking down the street he saw a Mercedes hearse drive by. He didn't remember the last time he saw a hearse, and thought it was odd that on this day, of all days, was the day he saw one. It had clear windows, so he could see the light brown coffin in it, yellow flowers on the top.

10 minutes earlier, I was sitting in that restaurant, eating an Egg McMuffin. I don't remember the last time I had an Egg McMuffin. Sarah McLachlan's "Do What You Have To Do" was playing in my ears.

I listen to that song every 21st of the month, as I sit in McDonald's, remembering my mother, doing what I have to do. The song always makes me cry, and it usually takes a song or two after it ends on my itunes genius, to recover. As I start to tear up in the restaurant, I get up and walk out, sometimes before I'm done eating, and I become that man, standing on the sidewalk of the street, blowing my nose with a napkin from McDonald's, missing my mother.