Grieving privately, I never felt like the process was complete, it seemed as if the ghost of my friend was trapped in my apartment waiting for the family funeral, the public recognition of their life; a commemoration, music, a last dance to honor the end of their story. [But] while walking with the (Naming the Lost) procession to the church steps, I imagined my friend dancing with us. When we spoke their names, those lost, each exhale of their name was in peace. As we lined up with our votive candles, all together grieving and releasing, I felt as if my friend were finally being laid to rest. I arrived to the flower-adorned candlelit altar, and as I placed a votive for my friend on the altar among the others, I knew that my friends red rose had found its resting place. Seeing the final presentation at dusk; a beautiful dervish whirling. Dancers in white, skirts and cloth twirling to joyous music, this was when I felt that my friend, at last, resting in peace. Her spirit and my loss had found good company to help lighten the burden of grief.

                                                                                              ~Ahda Hann