Death is a funny thing. By being the opposite of life, death has a funny way of bringing to light the aspects of life which we sometimes miss. This past weekend was my grandfather’s unveiling. The meaning of this, in case you don’t know, if that they reveal the tombstone and engraved message in it as the physical reminder of the passing of a person.
His stood near the rest of my family and beside his late wife, my grandmother. It is a simple tomb, as he was never one for frivolous or ostentatious things and for the ceremony his and my grandmother’s graves were marked with flowers. When the service was over we were invited to place stones atop the tombstone and we decorated both of them with a plethora of rocks in all shapes and sizes.
At one point, when the prayers were being recited, I looked up around the gravesite and felt life all around me. more than 40 people were gathered around to witness this, really, unceremonious event. You do not have to come to an unveiling- it is not “the right thing to do”, it is not the funeral and you are disrespectful for missing it- but nevertheless, they came. And I thought about what that means and how important his life was to these people who bothered to get up early on a Sunday morning, drive far north to stand by his grave and share in the service that lasted but 20 minutes. Some were family and many were friends of my parents who probably didn’t know my grandfather well but who love my dad and therefore were impacted by my grandfather just in virtue of him being the father of a man they care about.
I thought how life is like that- how much of our parents and our parent’s parents we carry with us. How they shape us and make us and do things to our person that we cant even begin to understand. I thought about all my friends that came to see me when he died last summer- how many of them probably had only met him at my wedding and yet the kindness they shared with me and my family by acknowledging his life.
I keep thinking how hard it must be for my dad to be without his parents- I cannot even imagine the emptiness that remains when you lose a loved one and then I think how having 40 plus people surrounding you when you mourn and conversely when you laugh and celebrate (for other things) is how people survive this crazy ride.
I felt proud to be the daughter of 2 people who have such great love in their lives. They make it easy (easier) to grow up. Watching how full our home was when the group came back for the usual lunch of bagels and cream cheese you cant help but feel alive and hopeful- something you never think that death will create for you.
My grandmother was such a bubbly and warm lady and I am sure that she worried when she died 13 years ago that she was leaving my grandfather to fend for himself as a man of few words and less inclination to be the life of the party- if there is any way they were watching on Sunday, I’ll bet she was overwhelmed at the amount of people that this quiet and reserved man impacted through being such a great person, through his family and through his art.
Anyways, realizing that this is a pretty somber post and that I haven't attacked a subway passenger or creep in a while, I will post a follow up shortly but sometimes a plantain just needs to say what is on her mind.
J
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