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.

Keeping Birthdays Happy

Birthdays.

They get you thinking don’t they? About age, life, if either is significant or to what degree if so. I love them- for this reason and many, many more. So much about birthdays revolve around attitude. Luckily, I don’t mind the thought of age. It’s of no relevance to me when I think of life’s happiness. It only comes in handy, as with age you get more opportunities at life’s goodies. Age doesn’t have to be depressing.

Look at it this way.

A birthday is special because it IS the day you as a being entered this physical world. Your soul came from wherever it existed prior and “poof!” emerged into this space. Ta da! Here you are! Working your way, moment by moment, day by day, year by year to what?

Your next birthday.

You could look at it as death, if you wanted to… if you wanted to be thoroughly depressing and devastating. Who the hell wants that? And who wants to be reminded of that inevitable flow called time taking you down the river of life toward something as dim as the thought called death? That is not what birthdays are for. I know this. In fact, death is just another birthday. Your soul is walking through a doorway, to be born in (…or perhaps returning to…) another “place” in which we may again celebrate the marker.

So, as we think about all of these deeper questions concerning age that yield no reversible answers, let's just opt instead to gather with friends, dream upon stars, and blow our wishes true. It’s a day to do what your soul most likely intended to do when choosing this day you are celebrating and that is RELISH IN LIFE. Do what you want to do. Wake up happy and go to sleep smiling. Time is not to be dissected. Time is only measured by man and we are indeed more than that.

On this birthday I make a wish for myself to keep an open mind and a radiating spirit that will guide me creatively through this life. I hope to see it each year as a way to be a pioneer and conquer new territory in the evolution that is Beth.

Surely I'm not the only one...

Does anybody else get sappy at odd things?

For instance, today there were two back to back accidents on 285 West Bound. The five lanes of traffic stopped for quite a while and like others, I just turned my engine off, which felt peculiar on a highway surrounded by other vehicles which typically cruise at 80 miles an hour. But, parked we were, patiently. Someone ahead was having a far worse day than all of us who were waiting for wreckage to be cleared. But, here's the part that made me weepy. As we in traffic slowly merged along in our cars, emergency vehicles were responding to the scene. I mean the works. Fire trucks came first, ambulances next, and then the cop cars came in numbers. This is all very positive. Helpers. Live in Anguilla, BWI for a year and you will become immensely proud of the punctual emergency response teams that we have here in the USA. As we all scooted right and stopped our cars so that we cleared a path for the emergency vehicles, my eyes welled up with tears. I sucked them back, so no fun can be made of me. But, watching the masses perform considerate acts makes me cry. Does anyone else suffer from this?

The same goes for funerals. When oncoming traffic pulls right and stops and turns their lights on in respect of the funeral procession I just lose it. I could have made it through the entire funeral without shedding a tear, but as soon as someone shows affection or consideration out of sheer unmotivated kindness, well, I can't contain the emotions. I remember in NYC when Nick's uncle died, I mentioned that this sympathetic expression from others is common when encountering a funeral procession and I got some bewildered looks from those living over seas. "Really?" they said. I'm assuming they were impressed. Because I am. Every time.

And if any human (human that is kindhearted that is) cries on television, I'm crying. Show me a stranded Polar Bear and I'm ready to live in a hut and eat bugs to save their ice caps. If a dog is hurt, or a race horse goes down, I don't get over that shit for years. I recently wanted two decorative mantle pieces, and because that meant I was leaving the third behind, lonely and feeling abandoned, I went back and got it too. I'm such a sucker. I rescued a dying bee yesterday and put it in a comfy place to confront its last moments, so that ants wouldn't ruin it for him. And both me and my husband rescue earthworms that will face a dry concrete fate if not directly put back to earth after a rain.

Any one else with me on this? Just wondering.