When men cry, they are deeply emotion.
Then there are days when men cry inside.
Those tears never stop.
Imagine the following: The year 1300 B.
C.
It is nearly noon as a young girl left her golden chariot behind.
She walks slowly until the the golden glitter and the sobbing fades.
Behind her the day, before her the darkness of no return.
The tomb is empty.
Her breath the only that echoes down the path, as if to go before her to prepare and warm up the coldness of the walls.
Life for her has stopped.
Only the faint light of oil lamps cast shadows that tell her she is moving.
Closer and closer to a moment she never wanted, nor dreamt she would ever attend, least now.
The bow and two arrows tell her nothing but the truth.
Earthly goods are just toys for the here and now.
Then she saw him, after the longest days in her life and she quivered.
Facing the roof, his smile gone, his mouth forever closed, to trap within his lips a last goodbye, a last assurance of love, of affection.
Unable to stay, unable to leave,she reaches forward and on his forehead she places, a wreath of flowers.
Flowers picked barely hours ago while dripping tear replaced the sunshine on the petals.
Was there a kiss, a touch, where once was lips, now just a cloth, carrying the overwhelming smell of farewell, a smell she would never forget, never wanted to remember.
Nobody knew and she would never tell.
Without a word she turned, up the 16 steps, and once alone in her chariot , a tear fell on her lap where earlier lay a wreath of flowers.
No one to see it, no one to dry it, and in her thoughts was emptiness and a smell she would never forget.
A world of love and dreams vanished in the days it took to prepare her husband for eternity.
Crossing the Nile from the west to the East, tears added to the water and the supplication of her prayers.
Where she always saw it bringing hope from the south, it now flowed away to an open sea of despair.
A child is not suppose to die, she though.
The year 1922 (3000 years later) His golden mask removed, the smell of herbs now stronger, the outline of a small body visible.
A cloth, now 3000 years old demanded patience, as if it sensed the parting was inevitable, yet unnecessary.
Nobody gave an order but the men stood back once the golden hearess was removed.
It was not the golden coffin, not the golden mask, nor the jewelry.
Not even the the funerary bouquets or the silence that halted them.
It was something much smaller that demanded the respect.
Still those who were there realized that when men cry they cry real tears and when they cry inside, the tears will never stop.
On his forehead, untouched for 3000 years,shying away from the light, lay a simple wreath.
Now dry, with only a hint of color still visible.
A small wreath of flowers, but an immense gift of remembrance.
Out of love, and placed there by a girl too young to be a woman, yet old enough to be a widow.
A Queen without a King, a girl without a friend.
An act of affection, for a boy too young to be a man, but old enough to die.
She would find no sympathy from those present as they scattered like rats and waited like vultures to pick the leftovers of a palace that once was a home now a prison.
If only she could knoew that it was not the golden mask they made for him, but the simple wreath of flowers that would express her love the most.
A love unwilling to die, in a time when the dark uncertain fate overtook them without warning.
After thought : The body of the young 18 or 19 year old Pharaoh Tutankhamen is still in his tomb, yet now lies unwrapped in a sealed glass box.
This is to protect him from the breath of thousands of visitors.
His eternal rest disturbed, his wreath removed his wife forgotten.
In a temple at El Ashmunein a block was discovered, hinting strongly at the fact that King Tut was in fact the son of the heretic visionary Pharaoh Akhenaton.
The block from Tell El Amarna, is an accurate piece of evidence that proves Tut lived in Tell El Amarna with Akhenaton where he married his wife, Ankhesenpaaton.
A scan in 2005 showed no signs that he was murdered.
It did show his body was taken apart, severely damaged by Carter and his team in 1922.
The arms, legs, torso and head were all separated from the trunk, which was cut in two.
Carter struggled to remove the body to free the 150 pieces of jewelry.
His tomb protected him from robbers, but not from the greed of man, expressed as scientific discovery.