It is mom's impression that you were planning to leave after you tied up a few loose ends. Last night I had a conversation with her about the timing of your death. She said that when she interacted with you on Friday (the day dad died), that you didn't make eye contact but once. She also said that your brother, Brad, said that you talked in such a way when you helped him get the load of wood out, it made him realize after you died that you were tying up loose ends. Mom also thinks you stayed longer than you planned, probably because of Hunter.
Having this conversation with her has helped me feel better about your death. Just a little. And that little bit helps a lot.
Lola was the last person to talk with you before you died. I didn't know that. (Lola is Karla's 18-month old). Lola was being held by mom when Sam was outside trying to revive you. Mom was on the phone with 911, holding Lola, and asking questions to Sam as he cut you down and gave you CPR. Lola went to stay with Adam and his family that night, because the grieving was too intense for her to be around. Lola's mom was in labor and gave birth 6 hours after you died.
I think about all of what my family went through- Jake driving into Duluth to tell Karla and Matt that you died (I talked with Jake before he arrived at the hospital), Grace, Mom and Sam dealing with your body and the immediate grief, and me, at home, making a circle of stones and going into sacred space, holding space for them, and for me. I could sense that you were present during Hunter's birth. I could see you with them, with him. I felt such anxiety over Karla finding out about your death before Hunter was born. I had more grief for her grief, than my own. The idea of my sister's birth being dimmed by your death really hurt. It is still one of the most sorrowful parts of the whole ordeal.
Your funeral was well attended. Over 200 people came. The church was full to the brim, back to the stage. I wanted to wear something that reminded me of you. I chose a shirt that looked like an agate. I wanted to find an agate necklace but nothing struck me as being right. Ryan willingly went with me while I tried to find the right pieces. Hugging Nahni brought me comfort, over and over, snuggling her in close.
When we went to see your body at the funeral home, the house was cold and dark. Dreary. All of us were afraid to look. All of use looked and supported those that hard a harder time. All of us cried when we looked, some with external tears, all with internal tears. The look in everyone's eyes, red-rimmed and puffy, spoke of their struggle. The struggle to believe, the struggle to cope, the struggle to remain whole.
Your body lay on a table, and dressed in what mom wanted for you, what was sacred according to your church standing. Your body was decomposing, face mostly unrecognizable due to discoloring and swelling- except we saw you in your profile. Eyes were closed, hands resting alongside your torso. There were faint signs of blood on your face by your mouth from the cause of death and on your left hand, from the burn earlier that week.
Dead. Every day your absence hurts more, because there is no earthly or other power that can bring you back. Physical death is forever.
How I long to go home, to walk in the pines, and remember happier days, when you were here, walking with me. Our last walk was through those pines. They remember all, and hold your spirit within their rustling needles and solid trunks.
Spirit isn't enough. Yet that's all there is.
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