He looks at her strong hands, a surgeon's hands. A friend's hands. He can't remember the words of the priest. He draws no comfort from the solemn ceremony. He stares at the twin caskets.
Daddy is on the left.
Mommy is on the right. He knows because of the pictures. They wouldn't let him kiss them goodbye. He holds two white roses in his small hand. A signal passes through the crowd, and it parts to let him through.