Folksburywoods

The sound of crooning turtle doves alerted the man to his approach to the graveyard.

“Not much farther, my love,” the man said.

Thomas Fingerbrush was the town’s grave digger. Today, he was doing something he had dreaded for days now.

“I’ve picked a beautiful spot under the elder tree. You’ll be safe from those nasties that roam the yard after midnight,” said Thomas.

Ella and Thomas were wedded forty-three years ago. They had raised a family and seven grandchildren.

“Love, I wish I were going with you. But someone has to see to it that the tikes get their morning porridge,” mumbled Thomas.

Reaching the graveyard, the man slid the wooden box into the ground. Thomas then started shoveling dirt over the casket.

“Thomas, should I perform the ritual sacraments for your wife?” asked the Vicar.

“Nay, no need, Gov. Ella is set for the hereafter, her being the kindest woman in County Clare,” answered Thomas.

“I see. You won’t mind if I say psalm twenty-three, will you?” asked the Vicar.

“Suit yourself, Gov,” said Thomas as he shoveled earth onto the box.

After completing his prayer, the Vicar nodded and returned to his church.

“It was a good run, lass. I couldn’t have done better. Say hello to the folks and let them know I’ll be seeing them soon,” said Thomas.

Thomas placed two lilies on the top of the mounded earth, then removed his hat and bowed.

Thomas turned and headed back to his home, where folks were gathering for a wake.

“Not normal for a wake without a body,” muttered the man.

Thomas dragged the cart back over the road as he had done for so many years.

“Sleep sound, my love. Thomas will join you as soon as I’m able,” said the grave digger.

Thomas started humming a tune from long ago to pass the time on the walk home. The grave digger would begin a life without his wife, and he hoped for the best.

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