Goodbye...

I went to my great uncle’s funeral on Saturday. I did not know him well. I went out of respect and support of my father….a man that I’ve seen cry only two other times in my life. Once at his grandmother’s funeral when I was very young. Those were tears of sadness. Another was when I returned home from Atlanta after ten years penniless and insane and had to move in with my parents. Those tears were of frustration at my lack of will to do anything at the time. And the last was Saturday at Uncle Chester’s funeral. These were tears of guilt and loss. I did not expect to get emotional but things would change. The casket was open upon our entrance. He looked nothing like the man I had saved in my head. My mother even speculated that they had the wrong man in the casket. But bad health had withered him down and the man in the casket was indeed the right man. The viewing lasted for an hour and we greeted and kissed other family members upon their arrival…remarking how nice it is to see them and how unfortunate the circumstances were. An hour later we were asked to rise for the entrance of the family…his wife…kids…grandchildren and close family friends slowly marched in. Some collapsed upon seeing Chester lying there. There was crying and wailing and hugging of the casket. Family huddled together in groups of twos and threes to keep each other from falling to the floor. Meaning no disrespect it was like a scene from a movie…too surreal to actually be happening in front of me.
The pastor quieted everyone down and welcomed us to our relative’s “Home Going”. He insisted this was not a funeral…we were not mourning his loss but celebrating that he was moving on. He opened the podium to those who wanted to go up and remember the deceased...say a few words of remembrance. My father was the first to go. He tearily apologized for not being more present in his uncle’s life and encouraged his aunt and cousins to have faith because one day the hole in their heart would heal. He was followed by his sisters who gave similar messages and also insisted that we are all family and moving forward we should have more contact with each other. But when his daughter stood I could not hold back my emotion. She could barely speak through her tears and I can hardly remember what she said but I could feel my heart breaking inside my chest when she spoke because I realized that was going to be me one day. That was going to be me standing there trying to deliver a teary message to our family after the loss of one of my parents. That was going to be me some day hugging my mother’s lifeless body. That was going to be me some day clutching tissue after tissue try to keep up with the never ending stream of tears down my cheeks. That was going to be me some day steadying my mother as she looked down at her husband as he lay quieted in his casket. As the remembrances continued I tried to imagine what I would say. This I could not fathom and still can't. It’s a reality of life that I am currently willing to ignore. The bliss of ignorance shall shroud my world until the horror of losing a parent yanks down that gauzy veil. May it be a long, long time from now.