We carried the coffin over. We sang, we sounded so strangely fragile in the enormous space. Beneath us lay the fjord, gray and heavy; on the opposite side, the mountain plunged vertically into the sea, wrapped in mist and cloud. The priest threw earth onto the coffin. Earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust. For a moment Mom stood alone in front of the open grave. She bowed her head, a fresh wave of sobs went through me, the last, for as we left to go to the community center, where hot meat broth was being served, the mood lightened, it was over, now life would continue without him.
