Yesterday was an incredible, tough day.
Yesterday more than 600 people gathered at a town hall in a small bush town to say goodbye to a friend. She was a friend to so many - a strong, no-nonsense, no-holds-barred kind of friend. She was someone who was part of my world forever. Not an everyday part, we weren't best buddies, we shared different generations, so moved in different circles that gently overlapped. Yet she was alwasy a familiar and steady presence. Lately we had become closer. I was to do a project with her, something I was looking forward to. A project that stands unfulfilled and hollow now.
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She had lived an interesting life before she was suddenly gone - some bits seemingly everyday and ordinary, the same bits that were shining highlights to her. Other bits were much tougher, confronting, soul-searching. Things she was brave enough to face and confront and search through. She had a lot to give, this friend.
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She had lived an interesting life before she was suddenly gone - some bits seemingly everyday and ordinary, the same bits that were shining highlights to her. Other bits were much tougher, confronting, soul-searching. Things she was brave enough to face and confront and search through. She had a lot to give, this friend.
And she gave in spades.
.
So many people had been touched by her. Her family. Her friends. Those she counselled. Those she leant on. Those who leant on her. Those of many different generations. She was one of those people who connected. She held networks of people together - networks that will all feel her loss deeply. I have wonderful handwritten notes from her, on the birth of my children, when things got tough with Dash. She was unafraid to reach out when she saw someone who needed some support. She was real. And she made a difference.
Death is such a confronting thing. A terrible thing. But our friend was ready for it. Her eulogy already written, everything in order for such an event. Initially this preparedness shocked me a little. But now it seems the most thoughtful, sensible thing one could possibly do. Her effort to make it easier for those left behind. A natural thing for her.
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It was something that made me stop.
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So many people had been touched by her. Her family. Her friends. Those she counselled. Those she leant on. Those who leant on her. Those of many different generations. She was one of those people who connected. She held networks of people together - networks that will all feel her loss deeply. I have wonderful handwritten notes from her, on the birth of my children, when things got tough with Dash. She was unafraid to reach out when she saw someone who needed some support. She was real. And she made a difference.
Death is such a confronting thing. A terrible thing. But our friend was ready for it. Her eulogy already written, everything in order for such an event. Initially this preparedness shocked me a little. But now it seems the most thoughtful, sensible thing one could possibly do. Her effort to make it easier for those left behind. A natural thing for her.
.
It was something that made me stop.
Not to wonder what is beyond the grid we pass over when we leave this life.
Not to worry about that beyond our horizons, that which we cannot see and feel right now.
But to think: what would my family do?
Would I have made it easier for them, or would my total lack of preparedness leave them floundering in a sea of grief and not knowing what to do...
Excuse me.
I think I have something I need to write.
.
Anyone thinking of skipping the comments section here should think again. There is a minor popcorn riot going on that you won't want to miss! Thanks for making me smile, guys...
12 comments:
Interesting perspective, I have never thought of that. I think writing a letter to your family, just in case, is a pretty amazing thing. To say the words that you might never get to say, if a life were to go unexpectedly.
I love the first picture in this post. I just want to take my favorite book and sit out there and read!! It looks so warm and comforting.
Hang in there, I am thinking of you during this difficult time! xo
Amen to Pony Girl
I'm not having a funeral. I'm going to be cremated. My friend Dixie, my cohort in crime will finangle a few moments alone with my corpse, and stuff my pockets with popcorn, just for grins and chuckles. And there will be a gathering, for my friends, food and talk and laughter, and nobody will be allowed to say a good thing unless they know me well enough to balance that with a bad thing. No flowery eulogies for me. I'm not perfect and don't wish to be portrayed that way. Finally, my ashes will be dumped into a hole, and a lilac bush will be plopped on top of them. And that will be the that.
Oh, Debby. Popcorn?! Gosh, I love you.
Yes, cremation for me too. And great music. And I may adopt the popcorn idea.
And yes, it's best to have everything prepared beforehand, BB. My friend's husband died suddenly, but in her shock and grief she found comfort in the fact that hidden inside his desk was all the paperwork and notes laid out for her "just in case" and it made her feel better knowing he had done it out of love for her.
I'm sorry you've had such a rough week, and I'm so sorry for your loss.
Oh my Lord... I have just read these comments and have giggled in spite of myself... popcorn? Do you think Tim will smile?
My friend was also cremated (today). Yesterday's service was called a Celebration of Life I think. I have yet to decide all these things - so much to think about!
Popcorn is now definitely on the agenda though...
:-)
BB
You guys are too much! Popcorn? LOL
I'm going to have to tell my mom about that -- she wants cremation. My whole family is going in for cremation, but I am afraid I'm a little more traditional than that -- give me a burial. Except I want some rockin' music. You better get at LEAST some foot tapping or dancing going there, or it just isn't a church service for me.
Boy, I was distracted by the popcorn. BB, I just wanted to say that I am so glad that your life intersected with this woman. She sounds like a wonderful role model for so many. How difficult to lose her.
Yeah...couldnt 'not' read and comment either.
The popcorn is just so perfect for me too. I have made it clear to my family that it's OK to cry for me but then they must all laugh. I want them all to have a party and laugh their sadness away...but I wish I could be there when the corn starts poppin'...I know a few who will laugh so much they will cry.
Thanks Debby...
and BB...write some more about your friend...you do it so well and I promise we would love to read all about her. Sending a hug...
We should have had popcorn in the hospital with Mom on her last day - at 101+. But we laughed anyway - she was full of delightful stories and comments! When the monitor beeped she asked, hopefully, "Does that mean I'm dead?" We were able to share her leaving with laughter and love...
Nancy in Iowa
Well, I don't want to give anyone a heart attack. Initially, I wanted a roman candle in my pants. I was afraid to cause alarm. Plus I seriously doubt that Dixie would have finangled a few minutes alone with my corpse to stuff a roman candle in my pants. She nuts but she's got standards. So, yeah. I decided to go with the popcorn instead.
Will Tim smile? Gosh. I hope everyone does. I hope that they fall all over the place laughing their hinders off.
Love both those photos.....they tell a story of their own
Lordy, popcorn and a Roman candle, Debby? LOL
I'm aiming for the cremation thing and then they can sprinkle me in the vegie garden.
Thinking of you, BB.
BB, I feel sad for the world has lost a wonderful person, but this post also made me giggle.
Roman candle? !
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