February 3, 2014

Gravity, saints, and a funeral.

Okay, I went. For your family's sake. Could I have sat there longer? Maybe. Did I seek attention? I will let you know later after consulting with the mirror. Look, I just don't think that so-called service was for you really, though your family did dedicate it to your honor and memory. It was merely a show for the god(s) they worship—what, three of them too?—though I could be wrong. They talked too much... And sang. I wondered if the leader was just a frustrated artist... And the bowing down and kneeling and beseeching for forgiveness of sins from a deity or deities supposedly watching from a distance... On top of saints...names I have never encountered in some inexpressible, magical way and, thus, have no real connection with. No thanks, but I can connect better with others I have also never met: Lewis, Da Vinci, Dickinson, Van Gogh, Hepburn, Bukowski, Carlin, Rowling, and Poe, to name a few.

How were we supposed to remember you in all that din? But I do. Sorry, I had to get out of there and talk. Did you sit with me in the car at the same time you were probably visiting other places? Or were you communing with them and their god(s)? Did they even know you? I know you like talking to people, but did they ever really talk with you? Did they really see you? I saw you. We talked and laughed and drank coffee... It was real. I heard the sadness and fear in your words....the despair about your world... You were no saint, though you smiled... No one really is. (Not even Mother Theresa. She did what she could, her work. I read up on her, you must have too. Although I did hear you could apply for sainthood, especially now that the church has recently lowered its price. Maybe the stars could be saints, though we only know too well they already are deified by folks.) Besides, if you were so full of courage, you would not have hidden... And if not for yourself, you would have forgiven...for your children.

There is so much more to say, but anyway, if you weren't lying to me, you said you talked to the wind too, like I do. It goes where it chooses, doesn't it? But while it's nice to soar with it, sometimes we have to ignore its whims. Or blow the air ourselves to keep it moving when it is very still. There are responsibilities here on the ground, gravity bounds us, you know. But you could ride along with it all the time now, and go to places you have ever wanted to visit. We were going to take trips together, remember? Now you must be looking at all the grandeur the earth offers, all at once too. Do they pale in comparison to the cosmos? Oh well, maybe you can tell me all about it over coffee. Just try not to startle me when you stop by, or I might spill paint on me or something.

Look, I don't mean to suggest that I was the only one who knew you. I probably only know as much as you allowed me to perceive... Sure, family, friends, and relatives cared for you, some maybe even more deeply than others; we all just have funny ways of showing it. But you must now see us in all our nakedness from where you are? One day the rest of us will too. Though we can only wonder this time from down here things that haven't been revealed about us...about the world, from its microcosm to the macrocosmic...that is humanity. We'll talk again soon.

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