December 30: Time Unfurls, Funerals, Good Things

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And then occasionally the mountains part.  The tree with the lights in it appears, the mockingbird falls, and time unfurls across space like an oriflamme.  Now, we rejoice . . .

It's all about light and rejoicing.  Moments when the sky opens up, and time comes to a standstill.  The world frozen in happiness, however brief.  

This evening, we celebrated the life of my wife's grandmother.  Funerals are strange things.  They are full of both laughter and tears.  Sort of like life.  We joined together.  Prayed.  Sang.  Shared stories.  Looked at old pictures.  And ate.  It sort sounds like a family Christmas get-together, in a way.

Tomorrow is New Year's Eve.  A time of looking backward and forward.  There have been some really good things that have happened this year.  A promotion at the university.  My daughter turning sixteen.  Good job for my wife that she loves.  My son--funny, full of compassion and love (our parish priest told me a little while ago that my son was "full of light").  Good things.

But there have been challenges, as well.  My dad falling down the stairs and breaking his shoulder.  My mother's failing memory.  Constant money struggles.  Most recently, the passing of my wife's grandmother this past week.  Bad things.

That's what this evening was all about.  Acknowledging the good and bad.  Crying and laughing.  We have a fridge full of cheese and ham and rolls.  Some noodle salad.  Over the next week, we will eat those leftovers.  Remember.  Because memory is a gift for the brokenhearted. 

I hope all my disciples have more good than bad to remember this New Year's Eve.  And ham rolls.  Lots of ham rolls.

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