Monday Morning Funeral

I attended my Aunt's funeral on Monday.

Flashes and images of that day are mixed with other funerals I've attended, and people whose funerals I wasn't able to attend. Layers of past experiences and emotion toward death crept up on me throughout the day, mixing together to the bittersweet blend of saying goodbye and moving forward. In exactly 7 days, I walk fully into a new chapter by becoming the bride of the man I love. It is all within myself: Goodbye, grief, sadness, tears--beginning, dreaming, joy, tears.

Before the service began, there was a private family prayer. Immediately following that prayer, my mother and remaining aunts stood at the same moment and walked up to the casket for a final goodbye. I counted them as they stood up, looking for comfort in the number--1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7...8? Without warning: 8 is in the casket. That's when I started to sob. The number of aunts has changed.

It's changed.

We walked into the chapel and the opening song began. Tears kept coming. A prayer, an outline of the program by her ecclesiastical leader, and then my cousins, each in their turn, began speaking.

They talked of stories I had never heard of; told tales I never knew. Soon there was laughter. Fondness more than sadness colored the room. Gratitude to have known her filled me. I felt solace overtake me, and knew that I, that all of us, will find the quietness of acceptance to heal up our tired, aching hearts.

Peace slowly bled into me. My hiccups quieted. My vision cleared. I sat up. I sat back. My muscles relaxed.

As we sang the closing hymn for the service, under the crowd came the deep rumble of my older brother's bass from four pews back, sitting next to his wife and children. In an instant, I was sitting next to him 15 years ago, just after his voice had dropped. There was an echo of the closing hymn from my Dad's funeral, which he'd sung with equal fervor.

The faces ticked by in my memory. Dad. Grandpa. Sister Palmer. Brother Burke. Beav. Sheila. Rosa. Grandpa.

Connie.

Each one has stayed with me, and as I look back, each one has strengthened me, too.

I am grateful for the miracle and fragility of mortal life. I am thankful that I have been blessed to have learned from those who went on before. I pray I will become the best of who they are.