August 28: Twisted and Contorted, Cost of Love, Wendell Berry, "A Meeting in a Part," Adventures of Stickman

"I don't know what happens when you die, but, I can tell you, whatever goes on is painful, because her face was all twisted and contorted:  it was as if she had to pay dearly to come to me, even for a few moments, as if it were a tremendous burden; as if she was violating something or breaking a law."  And then his [Ramirez's] voice changed and frightened Ives.  "Can you imagine what it was for Christ to come back for so long a period of time when He rose from the dead and went to visit His apostles?"

Ives' best friend, Ramirez, is not a religious man.  He doesn't go to church like Ives.  Doesn't pray and talk about forgiveness and God's love.  Ramirez is a hard man.  A bully to his son.  An adulterer to his wife.  Yet, near the end of the book, after his beloved wife dies, Ramirez is visited by her ghost, and it is a terrifying vision of suffering and torment.  She stands by his bed in anguish to simply tell him Te amo, marido--"I love you, husband."

It's not a very comforting passage.  The ghosts of loved ones aren't supposed to suffer in order to bring comfort to the living.  I think that's why I find this little passage so compelling.  Even in the afterlife, the cost of love is huge.  Painful.

My wife read me a little quote last night about how anger fits into the grieving process.  Basically, it said that anger is natural.  The grieving should welcome it.  Feel it.  Work through it.  So, basically, I'm allowed to be mad.  Pissed off.  Furious.  The quote also said that the stronger the anger is, the stronger the love for the person who's gone.

That makes sense to me.  Love is painful, as demonstrated by Ramirez's story.  In death and life, love can break your soul.  Yet, I wouldn't want to live my life without love.  I know that I'm sounding a little Oprah-ish.  However, I really do believe that love is what brings meaning into my life.  My wife.  Kids.  Sisters.  Brothers.  In-laws.  Friends.

My nephew had a dream about my sister shortly after she passed away.  In the dream, my sister and nephew played video games together.  She told him, "I have to go soon."  All the kids joined them, and they laughed and gamed together, like old times.  Finally, it was time for my sister to leave.  She told my nephew, "I love you all."  Then, she disappeared in a golden light.  My nephews says the dream brought him a great deal of peace.

Tomorrow, we will have the visitation at the funeral home.  On Sunday, the funeral Mass and lunch.  There will be tension and weirdness.  Tears and laughter.  Anger and hugs.  Pain and maybe a little peace.  When family gets together, that's what happens.

In some way, this whole summer has been one long goodbye.

Saint Marty is still waiting for his dream.

(Sorry, no fairy tale tonight.  We'll return to our normal programming next week.)

A Meeting in a Part

by:  Wendell Berry

In a dream I meet
my dead friend. He has,
I know, gone long and far,
and yet he is the same
for the dead are changeless.
They grow no older.
It is I who have changed,
grown strange to what I was.
Yet I, the changed one,
ask: "How you been?"
He grins and looks at me.
"I been eating peaches
off some mighty fine trees."

Adventures of STICKMAN