This weekend has been a long one, and one that has really affected me, causing me to think about what is important in life to me, and what I cherish. I was already having a week of personal struggles and issues, and then came news that my cell member and friend’s father has passed away. We stood by our dear brother, griefing along with him and his family at the memorial services and then at the burial, and I could not help but ponder on the things said about his dad. His father was no doubt a great man, and I wonder, what would people say at my funeral. The brother of the deceased gave a eulogy, and he spoke of great love and pride to have known and loved by him. I tried to think of what I would say about my brother and what he in turn might say about me, and I came up with just one line “I hardly knew him”. It was not an acceptable answer at all and one I must take steps to remedy from now on. As we followed the casket to the burial grounds, I realized I have not been to an actual burial since my Grandmother when I was a teen, and before that, my mothers when I was but 6. I have been to many memorial services, but always skip the actual burial or cremation. Not sure why, perhaps I didn’t want to relive those memories of past losts. As they closed the casket using screws, I had memories how way back then, they used nails instead. As they lowered the casket into the ground, I remember very clearly, though I was only 6 the same for my mom. I find it strange that I hardly remember anything about her, yet I suddenly can remember this.
The same evening of the funeral, I had a dinner with a friend who told me she had lost all purpose in her life. She didn’t really know what she was living for anymore, and I pondered if I really knew what I was living for.