Funerals and Cat Fights

Funerals
Funerals always make me cry. Not for the deceased. They are in a better place (I believe to my very core that heaven and hell exist). I often imagine my mother skipping along in a heavenly garden, singing "His Eye is on the Sparrow," kicking up her heels, and reveling that she is finally in a place where everyone (and I do mean everyone) considers even her beloved weeds beautiful. Her memory is perfect. She remembers everything she wants to remember, things that bring her joy and make her laugh (my mom had a great laugh). All other things have passed away. There, my father has regained the strength and vigor that made him a hero, and he no longer has the pain (whether physical or emotional) that birthed shards of anger. There, he is the consummate communicator (my sister and brother will laugh at that image, for he was a quiet man!). No, funerals are not for the dead. They are for the living.

This morning I attended the funeral of a friend who leaves behind a devoted wife of 35 years, two daughters and four grandchildren. As I sat in the pew, I marveled at their strength. Even young Christian, less than a month past his 11th birtday, walked before his grandfather's casket in stoic silence, although, I imagine he wanted desperately to bring back the one man who has loved and guided him since birth.

The death of a loved one bears great responsibility. Jose's family must honor his life. Respect his memory. There is work to be done. It's work that helps the living understand that life does, in deed, continue. It gives them purpose and structure at a time when the world has turned upside down and keeps on turning. And those brief moments of embrace and expressed condolences and love give them strength to take the next step.

I cried for them because I know they have a great loss to deal with -- and it will be a difficult time. I cried because regardless of belief in life hereafter, the reality is that, in this world, Diana will never again know the sweet touch of Jose's hand stroking her face, or the smell of his aftershave on his clean shaven face, or the sound of his love whispers in her ear. I cried because when loved ones die, our world is incomplete while our humanity continues its cry for wholeness. I cried because it was an intimate moment in a friend's life when my presence made a difference. And I knew it.

My mother taught us it is important to celebrate moments that count in life. Sometimes those moments are small -- a good report card, a good medical report, a new season of the year. At others, those moments are the stuff of life: births of babies, baptisms, weddings, great anniversaries, and yes, funerals. My brother and sister and I try to celebrate those moments. We've learned that those moments are pregnant with life lessons everyone needs on this journey. So, if you have an opportunity to share a sacred moment with another, don't let anything sway you from participating. Your life will be enriched. And don't worry if you cry. I'll bring the tissues.

Cat Fight!
Oh my. The ears are back, the claws are out and there's no sleep to be had in the Democrats' rendition of the Iditarod. Of course, no dogs allowed. Just cats. Mean cats.

I am not alone in saying I've had enough. Dyed in the wool Democrats who wouldn't DREAM of voting for a Republican (I seem to bleed red AND blue) have thrown up their hands in disgust. It's difficult to watch two alley cats go at each other, but we're talking about two people who want to run my country (sorry, Mrs. Obama, I've been proud to be an American all my life) without taking the high ground. The news is full of accusations (some real, some inflated) about racism, reverse racism, lying, ageism, anti-feminism, every vote should count, every vote doesn't have to count, naivety, encroachment, entitlement, fanaticism, etc., etc., etc.

If this is the best the Dems can offer, they are in for trouble. The fur is flying and the icy journey is far from over. At this point, the Republicans don't need to say or do a thing. These cats are not only killing each other, they're killing any shred of decency left in the race for the Democratic nomination.

This is one funeral I may opt out of attending.