There were no funerals any more. Not since they buried Hershel's family and her daughter on the farm. They had lost people since then, and buried them too, but there was no ceremony. There was no time, no energy, and it all seemed so pointless. Carol plucked a few of the wildflowers that grew near the fences at the top of the yard. There were graves out there that she wanted to visit, but not because anyone expected grand speeches or declarations of grief. She just missed her friends.
The yard was mostly empty at this time of day, though Rick was starting his gardening and Daryl was checking the saddlebags on his motorcycle in anticipation of another run. She waved when they saw her, but continued on her way to the small grave site. They really hadn't planned it very well; sooner or later any gardening would be blocked by it and she didn't even want to suggest moving them now. No one needed to see friends or family like that, not when they were surrounded by so much decay already.
Carol stopped and knelt near the edge, laying a couple of the flowers on T-Dog's grave. There wasn't much of him to bury, but she was the most grateful to him. He had saved her life. He had known that it was already too late for himself after being bitten, but he put himself through so much more just so she could get away. It showed a strength in him that they had rarely given him credit for. She hoped that in the same circumstances she would have found the courage to do the same for one of her people, but she also hoped that she would never be put to that test.
She scooted over a little, not minding the grass stains on her knees, and put most of the other flowers on Lori's grave. There wasn't anything left of her when Rick had gone to look, but Carl had insisted on burying one of her favorite outfits, her hairbrush and a necklace that she sometimes carried in her pocket. It was personal enough even if it was symbolic. It made Carl feel better that there was a spot he could go and talk to his mother. Carol saw him out in the yard, his hands on top of the grass and talking, probably telling his mother about Judith and how they were surviving. Poor Lori, she never got to know what a perfect baby she had sacrificed herself to save.
The third grave that Carol held a few remaining flowers for was Axel's. He didn't know he was saving her, but when he was killed it absolutely saved her life. That shot could have taken her life just as easily, just as suddenly. He had been a decent sort, even if he had been a prisoner before the world fell apart. He was less violent than her late-husband, certainly, and had a better sense of humor. There would never have been anything more than friendship between them, but she was starting to enjoy his company when they worked around the prison yard and she did miss the chance to get him, and Oscar, into their group.
She stood slowly, favoring her joints a little as the cold ground was not kind to aging people, and faced the sun. It was rising finally, giving more than just pale shadows, and she shielded her eyes as Daryl approached. "Want to come out with me on a run? We can take the bike."
Carol grinned, "You want me to sit behind you on your motorcycle and wrap my arms around you? Sure, I can do that." She laughed, feeling as though she were fully alive for the first time that morning.
He shook his head, blushing, "Stop, I just thought that you might like to get out of here for a while."
"I'd love to, Daryl, thank you for asking."