The silence after the last visitor leaves

I stood in the chapel today, just before shift change, and noticed how the air shifted—like the room remembered being full. The casket was gone, the flowers wilted, but the space still held the weight of goodbye. I’ve learned that dignity isn’t in the grand gestures; it’s in the quiet moment when someone finally stops pretending they’re okay. Today, I left the door ajar. Not for anyone. Just to let the silence breathe.