Faltering on the path

My uncle falters on the path for a moment and looks back (not really sure he wants to go on) as his daughter and son in law head to the car to drive home.
He had just interred his wife’s ashes. Each step taking him further from my aunt.
When I spoke to him on the ‘phone when I got back home he said the house (without her ashes) feels even emptier. He didn’t think it was possible for it to feel even emptier than it had since she died.

I never seem to be able to catch up here and don’t return to my blips quickly enough to write the text sometimes.

The next blip is of Blackfriars Bridge, in a hurry, in the rain.
I have no idea how it happened!
Ironically, if I look at the ever diminishing line of ‘pink ghosts’ now in the context of what I have written here, they are rather symbolic representations of that sense of the soul disappearing (or perhaps, merging) into infinity.