Eyes Where Love Resides

This was me.

I'm sitting in a pew; sad, but contained. I have said goodbye to my sweet Edna. My emotions are in check. I have cried already, many times; and have also successfully reversed what seemed surely to be another flooding a few times. I am uncomfortable losing control of my emotions in front of others. So, I try and combine being present with being detached from this moment. I say "This is just ceremony. This is just ceremony." over and over in my head. I pretend I'm blubbering my lips with my fore finger. I'm trying to do anything that will displace me so that I can read aloud without embarrassment. My cousin sings, a few words are said, and it's my cue.

I walk up to a podium, that luckily covers the majority of me, set my papers down, and smooth them a time or two. I adjust them, stalling. I make eye contact with no one. I know if I see any sympathy or affection shown to me, I break. Compassion unties me. I announce that I wrote two poems for my grandmother on the drive to Mississippi the day before and will read the first now. Then I attempt what I know will be the hardest part. I read the title "Missing My Sweet Edna's Eyes" and crraaaack. I'm undone. No fixing it here, right here in front of my family and others; I'm exposing all that controlled emotion. I ask for a moment, 'ooops' make eye contact with Aunt Linda, and realize I have to begin. To regain my composure is impossible now.

My grandmother had eyes where love resides. That is why these first words are tough. I am visualizing her eyes.

"Missing My Sweet Edna's Eyes

Real life has its virtues; it's true
But in my world, in my mind, I like the view
Of memories, of love, of lore from days left behind
You, my sweet Edna, will be forever in my heart, in my mind
In real life or in my mind's magic; in past time or in my moments yet to be
Forever your love lasts with me
And sometimes love is letting someone go
I will try to remember that which I know
When feelings of loss flood my senses with sadness
I will remember love is eternal and without rest
I will smile instead
love, Beth

I thank you for your love."

At the end I give a little smile so that I don't completely contradict my written words. I sit. And I feel better. I did it. I read the hard one already. Relief. Take two.

"That which I know

No finality
No, not for me
No crossroads
too wide to pass
No pathway
too narrow to take
Meander the way
to eternity
and you'll wind your way
back to me"

This one is more hopeful and is written in reference to the first poem's line, 'I will try to remember that which I know'. I read this one clearly. And I think she smiles. She smiled always.

Tears flow still in the car with Nick. But I have his big hand on my knee and I know this is my safe capsule where I can let go completely. Strangers show respect as they pull over and beam their headlights; one man takes off his hat. We travel along a road I have travelled on once a year since birth and I wonder 'When will I be here again?' I remember the moment I found out she left us, which wasn't long after she left, and I think of what I first said in my head. I didn't say "No." or "I love you." I said, "Thank you for your love." And that is representative of my grandmother. Selfless and loving.

A single butterfly is nearing our plot in the graveyard. She's a monarch. She flies under our tent and beautifully over the flowers on the coffin and out again into the distance. There are no more butterflies around and the air is so still and heavy one could drown. Edna is transformed now and she's sending us signs of love. She may not be at the other end of a phone call, or sitting in her favorite chair, but as a great lover of games would have it, she is sending us signs and watching us figure it out. She is with us more than ever before.