(i carry it in my heart)
i stopped by the cemetery this morning to say hello to grandpa stu.
it had snowed a little bit last night, and there was ice on the ground. my grandmother had clearly been there recently: there was a bouquet of cheerful red carnations by his tombstone. i could feel the ground give a little beneath my feet and it wasn't an entirely unpleasant feeling; somehow it made me feel a little closer to him.
there's something about cemeteries that i love. and when i visit my grandfather, it's nice to be able to take the time to simply be selfish in missing him. i don't have to think about anything else. i can tell him about what's new, how my grandma's doing, how much i miss him. i don't have to talk to anyone else, or answer any questions. and i can stand there for as long as i want remembering pieces of him i love so much: how he smelled like soap and my grandma's cooking, how deliberate his movements were in setting his silverware beside his plate, how when he hummed it was such a low pitch it made my heart rumble, how smooth his hands were, how he kept everything someone gave him out of love.
as i pulled around the corner to head out on the main drive, i saw a man fixing flowers on a grave not too far from my grandfather's. he rearranged them and took such care in making sure they were just so. and then he stood, glanced once again at the tombstone, and put his hands in his pockets. he closed his eyes and turned his face skyward, and just stood there, a perfect image of love and loss.
dying is no secret. we're attached to our own mortality and finiteness from the moment we enter the world. yet we love, over and over again. despite the knowledge that those we adore won't always be with us, we fill our days with the secrets and intimacies that make us feel most alive. we make stupid choices, we fall in love, we have our hearts broken, we take our family members for granted, we have torrid love affairs, we relearn how to appreciate our family, we have our hearts broken, we make new friends, we become attached, we love with all of ourselves, and if we're very, very lucky, we find someone who loves us right back with all of them.
(here is the deepest secret nobody knows): the fact that the human spirit is so resilient, so flexible, so able to be broken and then renewed like a burning phoenix; the fact that we are so able and eager to love; the fact that every cemetery is filled with countless stories and remembrances, is so incredibly powerful that i was moved to that bittersweet place where only the most perfect beauty exists. we have one glorious lifetime. that we choose to spend it loving is probably the prettiest thing we ever do. (this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart).
love,
j
