For what is it to die but to stand naked in the wind and to melt into the sun? Only when you drink from the river of silence shall you indeed sing.And when you have reached the mountain top, then you shall begin to climb.And when the earth shall claim your limbs, then shall you truly dance.
My Grandmother died last week and there hasn't been a lot of time for me to think deeply about it. I sent a bouquet of flowers to my Grampa, not a great replacement for my own presence, I know. But, I have never felt a part of my family. I have never known them to fill the shoes that 'true family' could (or so I imagine). So in all of the disappointment over the years, i have distanced myself more and more. I prefer avoiding all of the drama, competition, and selfishness that I see in their relationships with each other, but I am grieved by the emptiness, the absence of extended family in my life and my children's lives. And, in the wake of my Grandmother's passing, I am more aware then ever of the brokenness of it all. I'm not sure how my Grandmother ended up in such a dysfunctional family, I remember her canning peaches, shopping at Pendletons, having bridge parties, teaching us kids Skip-Bo. I know my love for turquoise jewelry comes from her, and my insistence on a perfect Thanksgiving dinner as well. All I can think to do is remember her for all the good that she was, and hold on to the idea of a family where love and support comes before judgement and money, and offer that to the next generation that I am raising. I wonder if she wanted more? I wonder how things became so convoluted. I wonder if my Grampa got the flowers, or if he was moved by Kahlil Gibran the way I am. I wonder if she felt like she lived a full life. I hope her spirit is dancing in a field of flowers, free and happy and loved.