She was carried along by the river. He never wanted to see her this way. He never wished for her to die. Things just happened and things just became unstoppable.
She loved this place though. This river. They had come here often, laying in the tall lush grasses of the riverbank, a blanket spread out beneath them. She always packed baskets of food and drink, whether it was afternoon or evening.
In the humid night air of summer, they watched the fireflies dance. The sound of the rippling waters lulling them into peacefulness.
All things change however.
Eventually, the river was a place they stopped visiting. Their relationship had become too complicated. Things were not so laid back and easy anymore.
Now, however, he could bring her there to the river they once loved together. She could be at peace here. And he would visit often to remember what once was.
With a sigh, he said a few words, of how he loved her, of how he mourned her, and how he would miss her. He was emotional. He was hurting. He was angry.
He found their favorite spot and strolled out to the river, going in knee deep with his beloved in his arms.
He opened the urn and lifted it, letting the contents spill out into the winds and down onto the currents of the waters rambling downstream. As the ashes caught up in the slight breeze, he silently raged at god for taking her away from him. How many more would have to die from cancer? Wither and waste away.
His love didn’t deserve this. She was a good woman.
Now all that was left was the river and memories.