My brother wrote this tonight -- wow
The light glowed softly from across the darkened room, much like a candle in a sanctuary -- both welcoming and warming.
"Come, you are home," it seemed to say. And, in a trance like way, I did. The approachment, itself, warranted the slow and respectful march that accompanied these sort of occassions, but the joyfulness and the happiness of the one being approached called for something of a much more joyful nature.
"What do I do?" I wondered, "How do I show my respects for her in ways that I know she'd understand and respect herself, without insluting those that wouldn't?"
Why does it matter? Why does it even concern me? This occassion is for her, it has nothing to do with me or even my own existence. Granted, I will mourn for her, but I will not mourn forever. Instead, I will celebrate her life, both the good and the bad and that I will celebrate forever.
And so, I approached with a large and soul-felt tear in my eye that also seemed to accompany the moment.
I stepped into that aisle that said nothing else to me but, "I am the end. There is nothing beyond me but a box and some dirt."
And, then her voice said softly to me, "No, I am always here, and I always will be so long as you remember me."
And looking back in retrospect, I should have said, "Mom how could I ever forget?"