Blog friends, I missed a day yesterday. I was at the funeral of a dear friend. She was one of the greats. There was a double funeral and I was fortunate and honored to be a paw bearer. I don't suppose her memory will be dulled by her absence. Funny how some people have that much of an impact on their surroundings. Everything was as it should have been, respectful, well-planned and rich with sentiment. I found it odd; fighting with myself most of the day, about how much emotion I would feel or would show. I had feared, having not long ago buried my mother, that this might have an unpredictable effect on my descrection. I loved the family of the deceased as though they were my own, many great memories and all the trimmings. I had often wondered why I had never really cried or broken down from my mother's death or funeral. I assumed since I was the oldest and taking care of the arrangements and overseeing the process; that I was going to have a delayed reaction after everything was over. One year later; I am still waiting for that shoe to drop. Yes, I loved my mom, yes, she is missed. The only logical is that I did have the opportunity to say all the things I wanted and needed to before she passed. Hmmm.....nonetheless; beyond the psychobabble; the blog....
I stood there, beside the deep, empty chasm that would become the home of the newly deceased's earthly remains. I could see how cold the ground would feel; how deep and dark the mystery of death would cloak the perception of the living. I remember that Christ went there and came back. I have never seen anyone else do that. What about this doorway keeps all others behind it? Are ghosts those who found a way; but no body to return to? So many questions. I remember touching my mother's face the day of the funeral...how cold, unflenching and empty it seemed. Our bodies are the cocoons to the next life; much like the butterfly, we began as something else; we have yet to reach the butterfly stage.
It seemed odd to listen to the sound of the dirt being emptied back onto someone that I had once hugged and laughed with many times. It seemed odd to watch all the people watching it happen with probably the same pensive look I had amid a wide range of emotions. It seemed stange to me to have no doubts that I too would go that way and so would everyone else watching her departure below the surface. The truth was/is that she wasn't in there. She was already gone—moved on to the next level. I know I was imagining it; but I thought I saw my mother across the graveyard watching, smiling and happy. I know I was imagining it; but I thought I saw the newly passed from where the wind came almost 6 yrds away to the left, smiling and waving goodbye; then kissing her family members who suffered the most. The mind does those things...or our hopes that we would be able to do those things at our time.
All the dirt had been returned. The ground covered with flowers where she lay. The people file away. The sun keeps shining. The rush-hour still occurs. Today began again like yesterday did.
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