My mother, Bibi, Kartar Kaur.
The frothy waves come and go, lashing through the pebbles, taking more of her away.
Joining her specs of dust with grains of grey sand. Curling and enfolding her into the vast unending oceans of the seas.
We have our thick coats on, it is cold.
The sun shines on us as we finally let her go, at 11am on 15 February 2020, not far from the northern pier.
We are bent over. We are silent together and alone.
We keep looking back at her, while we walk away.
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