Friday, October 27, 2006

The Service

I just walked back in the house. I cannot talk anymore. I have talked myself out today.

Walter said to the boys, during the reception after the service, see your mom? She’s broiling hot right now, pretty tired, and see how she's talking to everyone? She makes them feel like they know her, and knew your grandma... that's what your grandma could do. Your mom can, too. Someday, you'll be able to do it, too.

And then he took them out, down the street and they played James Bond in their suits around the large pillars of a bank.

The funeral was.... intense and not. My friend Terry who came up found herself being fundraised- simply because she was a friend of the family. She was blown away. Wow, she said. I only had a taste of it and I can't believe it. I can't believe that was your life while you were there.

Yup. Every day. I was Anne Whitman's daughter. Open season.

I'm exhausted. One of my most favorite, favorite people, Pearl, was there. She is very ill. Cancer of everything, everywhere. I sat with her a while at the end. She said, you look fabulous. I know you feel like shit but you look fabulous.

I said, yeah, you too.

I want a Walter, she said. What an amazing man.

I know. He is. I am so very lucky to have such a great dad for my kids. A great friend for me. I paused and reminded her, there is an Allan you know.

I know, I know but he's not here. Walter... what a gift.

Yeah.

When we landed in Rochester, my entourage surrounded me. It was fabulous. I felt held and loved and known. My family was with me. We drove Terry and Maria, two friends that came with us, to see the house we lived in up there, if ever so briefly. Walter wanted to see the 12 elms I planted. The trees all started at about 10 feet tall when I planted them. All twelve are still healthy, at least three feet taller, and beautiful.

Good job, Walter said. I know he eyed the property and thought about the Beech tree we discussed, and the orchard on the side of the hill. It was a stunning piece of land. But not our home. Maria asked the boys if they missed the house and land.

Well, I miss the house and the yard was great but... I didn't like living in New York, Ben said.

The other two were quiet. I’m not sure how much they remember. We were only there six months.

No.. I didn't like New York. I mean, it was fine, in some ways but... no. I like being at home.

At the service, Dan read the poem by May Sarton, The Beggar, Queen and Ghost. It was my mother. To her core. It made her human.

I loved my mother. I loved her very much. Today, I was her protégé. I did what I needed to do to honor her.

It’s been a long, long day.

I’m rambling. I’m not making much sense. I’ve talked all I can talk.

It’s over.

1 Comments:

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