October 13, 2009
One of the strangest days of my life, I must say.
You revisit one of the environments that has thrown you out, dejected you from being yourself, and you see all these faces, both with a combination of fear of you as a person while simultaneously confronted with death head on that has struck you personally.
Does anyone really care?
You go through the motions of death being something that makes you angry, upset, sad, makes you laugh, resignation, etc. It just is a mixture of emotions everyone around me is experiencing.
And yet I don't move. I am emotionally sound, yet silent.
I played violin today, maybe not up to the best standards, but I tried my best. People commented that is was wonderful, although the hearing aids were enough for me to realize that for some, just hearing noise is a blessing.
I found myself reflecting on was constants I have in life, both now and for the long term. A list comes to mind:
*Family, Gretchen, Erik, and so many friends disguised as my guiding forces
*Death
And then I sat there and meditated on that. And here is what I found:
Reflecting on my Grandmother's life, I never want to see me or anyone I love placed in a nursing home where the life and the meaning in it is sucked away from you. I don't want my vacation away from "home" to be down the hall in front of a puzzle or in front of a TV while other people groan and make noise from pain they cannot tend to or control, while the individual sits next to you in his or her own piss because no one changed them.
I refuse to accept that fate for anyone. I would rather die.
I reflected on mistakes my Grandmother made, and yet the successes she had that others now recognize. First, that saying whatever you wish to say isn't always the wisest decision, that tact always will help and make you a better individual. Second, hold on to what is important. For Grandma, it was God and a good book. Family was important, but she only realized that in the end of her life. Third, take a walk. My grandmother walked everywhere; cars were the enemy. So take a walk, take in the air, and for God sakes, breathe. Fourth, never be afraid to say "I love you." My grandmother didn't say it enough. So always say I love you to the people you love.
What throws me still is being in the church that I was brought up in and thrown out, one church that when ignorant of who its members are is accepting and accommodating, and yet when exposed is nothing more than something that needs fixing, correcting. If we were all about loving people for people, and loving whatever "God" is for what "God" is, we would be better people. We would have realized that all of us are little peons on this great planet, with no more purpose than the specs of sand underneath us.
So love and loathing came together today. Death and the life that continues to go on came together. They lower a body into the ground today just as another job to do in the day; the people that lower my grandmother's body into her grave did not know her, nor do they care. It is another job, another task they have been assigned. My mother lays in bed tonight, looking at the ceiling and doubting she did everything to be the daughter she aspired to be to her mother, while others are coping in different ways. I sit here writing the words on this screen, fueled only by the reserve energy I have to give after the ordeal that was today.
People are so funny. Life is funny. Death is funny. It is these indescribable things that bring us happiness, sadness, joy, hope, fear, every single emotion.
The following poem was read today, written by Mary Elizabeth Frye:
Do not stand at my grave and weep;
I am not there. I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning's hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry;
I am not there. I did not die.
And so Frye's words should conclude any weeping, any sorrow that anyone is experiencing.
