Monday, April 8, 2019

Poetry Project, V. 10.0, Day 5

Simple and no frills for this one.  I went to a funeral last week, and realized something: no matter how many times I go to a funeral, I always remember all of them.  All at once.  It happens with other things, too - weddings, Christenings, graduations, First Communions, voting - all those life events in which we participate all seem to rush back upon me at every single event.  Some of them, my memories are a child's memory, those little things that stood out to me as a kid that are probably unimportant to me now, but that is what I have.  Those ones tend to be images only, maybe a face or two.  Perhaps that is why funerals are so very difficult: it's the collective memory of all of those similar events that come rushing back to us all at once, and we relive them all.  Or maybe that's just me - I don't really know if other people experience it the way I do.  Come to think of it, I've never bothered to ask.  So forgive me if this one is a bit morose or depressing. 

the woman i never met

we said good-bye today,
another member of a generation lost,
leaving only memories behind her.
i met her family and friends,
her faith community,
and the church where she celebrated,
a restaurant she enjoyed.
i saw the place where she was interred next to her husband,
and heard the sound of the cold wind whistling by.
in some ways the same as those like days i have known,
and i shed my own tears
for a woman i never had the honor of meeting in person.
but i know her family
and i met many friends,
and saw the cherished wedding album as it lay open,
the black-and-white photos of a different era.
i was afforded a glimpse of a life,
the chance to see the beauty and fullness of it,
and celebrate her.


Thanks for reading,

Me

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