tw: death Two days ago I went to my hosts grandmothers funeral in Taveuni. I tried to consolidate some thoughts on the experience here. It was a beautiful ceremony that left me exhausted and full of questions. I follow Eleni’s example and fall to my knees, trying to distance myself from fear. This is the first time I have seen a dead body. I look down into the face of a woman I have not met. She is pale but serene. Tight curls of grey hair wind close to her skull. I wonder who washed her skin, who arranged her hair. Bits of cotton are stuffed in each nostril. Only her head is visible; someone has tucked in a length of white fabric just below her head, obscuring her body from the neck down. Is she wearing clothes beneath? Can she feel the heat of this day, this overstuffed room? I lose track of my breathing body for a moment, floating above. onebikeoneyear.wordpress/2014/12/11/purple-is-for-mourning/
Posted on: Thu, 11 Dec 2014 08:36:52 +0000
Trending Topics
Recently Viewed Topics
© 2015