Wondering of spaces between life and physical death; between the yes and no and the knowing and the forgetting and beyond what is not felt and momentarily realized…
We invite experience and receive experience in washes and tumbling that are wished for and torn away and into similar, as watching ocean waves or being swept out to sea by a storm or an accident. We reach for broom or mop or both, still we are never completely cleaned or dry.
Wondering how we fit between the softness of time and the steel reality of flying away from what is almost known into what is quickly learned or remembered. We are born knowing everything and instantly taught to not know. We spend another life learning to physically survive and toward the end, we realize the passage of time and our knowing returns in spared memories and past recognitions.
While learning necessary survival we forget what we were and are and desire in the worlds above and below as we cling to this one. The hardest moments of this life are waiting for stupidity to understand anything.
First we remember; the horror of birth and then the softness of mothers’ caresses and the survival of love within her eyes. For Love-is-Life and Life-is-Love So! Transition world and onto road—here we come.
The funeral folk are leaving. A couple of groups still stand close to the “hole of deep six feet.” We are together away from where her son will soon be covered and hidden away from us. She has placed a Chicago White Sox cap over her long dark brown hair. On the mountain top wind pushes everything around. That explains the Sox cap and her young son’s favorite team.
We whisper and “Amazing Grace” does have a sweet sound. That hymn was our Father’s favorite. We quietly talk of little ones and cars and crashes and friends and pain and pain and another angel gone over and over again. She can cry and whisper our pain at the same time and I cannot cry.
We continue to our Father’s funeral. Afterward, crowds thin and whispers and wind and tears and music end gently. Life and spirits leave us and yes “people-pain” hurts. It is a pain left for the living along with the terror of a young one’s death and the end of a loving Father.
We gather together outside, Beach-side, Ocean ripples and a soft blue-green of the outbound tide. No wind, no breeze and a cool sea and a blue and cloudless sky.
They proceed toward a sunset place, of lamps, soon to light after that most public kiss (“You may kiss your Bride” – should be both of you hold and kiss and live with peace and love and understanding and butterfly kisses and the give and the take of your Dawn of Life and the begining of your Circle of Life.”
The Book of Life has started and you both will write this book, together.
We, toward one another, glance, remembering or forgetting the cake and the dance and the laughter, the toast, the memories of our own book and a marriage that has failed many times and as many times succeeded.
Sunsets, and the “I pronounce you Husband and Wife”. May our creators have mercy on, presently, your soul of one.
As they turn toward families and friends and life, we are in that passing moment, Together!
Sunset colors fade into the Line. Together and Together and Forever and…