this has been a week of dying
even though
it’s no longer necessary
to wear black
i’m running out of
funeral clothing
it’s still inappropriate to
wear a leopard print skirt
or a pocket t-shirt
funeral home visits
are becoming too familiar
children you haven’t seen
now stand tall and somber
warm embraces
bring tears
to the surface
you can’t help
but wonder
when it’s your turn
to lie still and pallid
in the front of that room
and for some reason
i always look at their hands
In a list
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you can’t help
but wonder
when it’s your turn
to lie still and pallid
in the front of that room
and for some reason
i always look at their hands
I think we were cut from the same mold. What is it about hands that tell you so much about a person? I do the same thing. I too have had this thought too much lately. It's weird. You know it's soon, but you wake up, even in a hospital, and it's as though it's only another day. There are signs everywhere that your affairs should be in a bit of order, but I still sit, almost not believing. I talked to an older friend of mine recently. This was the topic. It is everywhere, and yet, you don't believe it.... not even with your eyes. -
I've always found it surreal, that the makeup they put on the face just has some seem as though they should rise and take a big gulp of air while I'm on the pew at the side of the casket. It's as though I'm studying the fact that they shouldn't be "gone" as they simply don't look it with their glasses perfectly placed, beads in their hands, a polished pocket watch barely in the pocket for us to see.
I'm reminded of a funeral in these past several months with reading this. Though, I could not have written something this strong to bring the experience outside of myself as you have here. This is vivid and a poem to reflect upon well after reading with the images pulling us into that room with you.
A great poem indeed.
Kim
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2008 was the year of years for my seeing people go away. I wonder if it our age or something. Anyway, I always look at hand of the living, but can't say I gave much attention to the hands of those passed. Next time, I will, and will meditate on what you see there.
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I've been meditating on this subject. It's amazing how the world and its stupid, irrelevant obsessions fade when one contemplates death. Great write.
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I don't do funerals if I can help it but I figure I didn't wear a suit when they were alive... so why wear one for their funeral.
Sincerely,
Leo Long
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Wow! Miss Stormy, how you've hit the nail on the head with this here!
I walked into a resident's semi-private room yesterday to see him draw his last breath. Ruined my whole day on the inside. I had to maintain for everyone else that needed me tho. I always get to see a whole lot more than their hands tho. Great write.
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just a note for my Daughter's funeral i don't recall what anybody had on it was just the fact that those who mattered to me most was there
~liz~ -
Joyce,
I try to avoid funerals, I don't really want to go to mine. But someday I'll have to. Death and taxes..,
Know what i mean?
Joe
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The hands don't lie. The face is all make up and putty, but the hands tell the life's story.
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topical
Strong coda of last two lines. I didn't notice whether they were visible or not, but your contemplation of hands sends out ripples of adumbration, meaning fading into shadows...
My mother's funeral is Thursday evening. Wear best clothes, tan dungarees and cotton print shirt -- but all mine were dirty until I found Sun detergent for $1.00 at corner convenience store. Now to get haircut and beard trim, but hairdresser is out of town... Shower drain stopped up, will take bath next door in my mother's house where my brother is staying. Ancient custom of funeral baked meats: 'When death appears, think of food.' My cousin brought groceries, glad to get them.
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I'm so sorry for your loss briareus.
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