Often when i visit a place.. i walk to see the church/churches.. and often come on Sundays , bc i love to hear the singing and the affirmation of the community bonding...(and good for photos 0f course) and it was no different for me in St Lucia
As i approached the door i noticed many dressed up, but a lot in black and was quickly welcomed to come in and say goodbye....
it was then i realized i happened upon a funeral and an open casket... everyone was gathering around.. touching her.. taking photos... and then there was me....
in judaism.. how i grew up .. there were no open caskets.. seeing the dead was not something i was familiar with.. until i went to one in my 30s of my boss. i found it a bit un-nerving and never went to one again....
the next time i saw someone who had passed ,was when i lay on a bed with my mother when she took flight....and then my dad ,watching his last breath.. with each one i felt more deeply and no longer timid.. in fact the opposite... i pierced my eyes looking at the one who was gone in front of me taking in every piece of them... and thinking about their life, and those who mourned and shared so much history
so on this day.. as i entered.. not expecting. i took my place with everyone else.. and shared in their loss and honor of their sister, mother, friend.......... this one boy and his father told me it was his sister and son's aunt... we talked for awhile..and i spent some time remaining with them as they welcomed me to come stand near
It was so peaceful, tender and uniting , and while sad ,a joyous moment of honoring her
