BeMused

If you’re looking for a happier or fun-charged post, you might like to scroll down or come back another day. This one is for me. I feel the need to purge the thoughts and emotions that have taken over my normality over the last few days before I can return to my usual writing style.

I went to the funeral. There were many people crammed into the church on this unusually hot day. A few hundred in fact, leaving little room but for the late comers who struggled with parking to sit huddled together in the back pews.

The service began with angelic voices. To call it an emotional experience would be stating the obvious. The 25 minute eulogy read more like curriculum vitae interspersed with family events than a celebration of a person’s life, but it was impressive nonetheless. However much it fascinated me, I found it a harrowing experience. Her dearly departed parent shares the same name as mine. And the emotions erupted within me every time I heard it; a premonition I tried to cast aside, or a déjà vu of the future, if there is such a thing. I realised that in my mind I was escaping to a far away land, one that is not grounded in reality.

Due to the family’s wishes as well as circumstances beyond my control, both of which I cannot elaborate on, I was unable to get anywhere near my friend or her family to offer my condolences. I caught a glimpse of her at the end of the service when the procession made its exit. She walked alone, while everyone else was comforted by someone close. Her eyes remained downcast and she held it together, on the outside. My heart broke the moment I saw her. Alone. I wanted to jump out of my pew and hug her. But I could do no such thing. Instead, I hoped that my thoughts would find a way to her, even telepathically.

I felt very upset that I could not offer condolences or comfort on the day before I took my leave of everyone. Sadly, it had to be this way. A few hours later and with clarity of mind, I decided to send her a card and a hand-written long letter. Maybe a quiet get together over a coffee is more our way.

To top the heightened emotions of the day, we were not three. Nor could we be together. Last minute circumstances prevented the third from attending the funeral. I knew she was most upset as much as knew we were three in spirit.

Funerals, and more often wakes, offer a kind of release after one has paid their last respects, a closure of deep emotions that bubble and rise to the surface then somehow find a certain calm. I did not have that closure and it will remain so until I have the heart to write that letter. At least I had the chance to pay my last respects.

Note: I have decided against disabling comments on this post. I know some of you like to have a voice, but I am not expecting any replies. I feel as if I have said everything I need to say, for now. If you have read this post in its entirety, then you have shared some of my sentiments and I thank you.

This entry was posted on Sunday, February 24th, 2008 at 9:58 am and is filed under Life. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Responses are currently closed, but you can trackback from your own site.