Holy night

For weeks now, Clarissa and I have wanted to go to visit Richard's grave; to take something there; to make a small ceremony; to reconnect with him somehow. We'd had a few ideas but neither of us seemed to have time; life kept getting in the way and I guess we were both a bit scared of being even sadder.
A few weeks ago we'd had a wonderful day in the woods collecting pine cones; reminiscing; crying and laughing. It was one of the loveliest days so far. We came home and made a wreath from the pinecones and it's been sitting outside Clarissa's house making us both feel guilty for ages now.
Finally tonight we managed some time together and a more perfect night couldn't have been imagined. It's been snowing heavily here for a couple of days now so it was a quiet white world that we stepped out into. We'd searched high and low at Clarissa's house for a torch but couldn't find one so we ended up with lanterns throwing swinging lights ahead of us. We walked down to the Church and through the lychgate, past the bell tower and down the slippery slope that leads to the grave yard. We stumbled over the bumps in the snow and found Richard's grave. We placed the wreath at his head and cried, and then laughed and then cried some more, did a bit of shouting at God and various other people, laughed and cried some more and then lit two sky lanterns that drifted up quite fast past the church spire and on toward Bridgham.
And now after searching and searching for the things that makes me feel a tiny bit better, I know what they are. It's tears and then laughter and then more tears with a truly great friend. That's all it takes.