Well, an emotional day is coming to an end, and, as expected, a certain kind of pain at a loss of an elderly matriarch can be a reminder of ones great blessings in this temporal existence. Its amazing how, in times like this, that ones sense of ones life and ones position in life returns swiftly like a boomerang to its states and places of origin. It reminds me very much of the Canadian-American-Western author Wallace Stegners statement in his WOLF WILLOW that I may not know who I am, but I know where I am from. Indeed. I may be and am indeed, in so many ways, unlike my ancestors and my family, but that I came from and have been influenced by them is an inalienable fact. History, place, and memory give one identity, though ones identity is equally his or her own to make. Such is the nature of our individual existences. Being a pall-bearer is a supreme honor and quite emotionally-wrenching; there is a special kind of intense emotional pain combined with the satisfaction of fulfilling a great duty that one feels when moving a wooden box with the lifeless body of a close loved one, a body that youve just seen for the last time, all while a hundred eyes are gazing upon you carrying out this duty. I shed tears throughout parts of the day, but about half of them came while performing this specific duty, and I know that I needed to do it, both the duty and the tears. I know that, unless I meet an untimely end, Ill have to do the pall-bearing thing again at some points, and it will be both much more painful and feeling much more like the fulfillment of a great duty. Im not remotely ready for those events, though, but I have no choice when they shall happen, and Ill carry out the duties just the same. Such is life, right? Todays services were beautiful. My grandmothers brother spoke well of her, and my aunts and mother and their friends sang beautifully in her memory and honor. I dont believe that funerals, however, are for the dead; they are for us, they serve our purposes, and that is perfectly fine. The key to dealing with the pain, it seems, is to focus on the future while honoring the past, finding a healthy balance between the two. We must seek to always educate and improve not only ourselves but others. In doing so, we contribute to the world while also bettering and honoring ourselves, and honoring those who have come before us, who are responsible for our existences and for their parts of our identities. That seems to be such a motivator for me as an artist, but, on some levels, all of us are artists. After the services, as is customary, we had a great family gathering, full of fun stories, plenty of cousins and other family and friends, plenty of food, and a couple of ice chests full of beer, because, mais, thats the way we do it on the bayou, mon chere. Merci, Jimbaux
Posted on: Tue, 29 Oct 2013 02:40:57 +0000
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