The day isn't gloomy, even though everyone thinks it should be. The funeral procession carries on slowly, the birds chirping in the background as a sort of farewell. The dead woman's old husband looks at the coffin, tears forming a little river down his face. Her mother and grandfather are already dead. "I love you, sweetheart." he mutters to the coffin as it is lowered into the ground. Everyone looks at him expectantly. He is supposed to dump the first shovelful of dirt onto his dead wife's coffin. He refuses. Eventually, everyone else adds a shovelful, and then the rest of the dirt is pushed into the coffin. Everyone leaves for the reception and nearly has to drag her husband away. His wrinkled face is contorted with misery, his snowy white hair reflects the old life he and his wife had. He can still see the silvery streaks in her flaming orange mane. He is taken away by friends and family, and that's when the man makes his move. He is carrying a bouquet of forget-me-nots, and he slowly approaches her headstone. He mumbles a few things as tribute to his old friend, and then places the forget-me-nots in front of the headstone. His hearts ache for her, for her husband, and for her dead mother and her dead grandfather. He straightens his bowtie bravely and walks away, wiping the tears from his eyes. "Thanks for the adventures. You're still the most important woman in the Universe, to me."