THE VIEW
Everything has been
carefully prepared; the room is just as it was planned.
The flowers are beautiful, perfect arrangements for the occasion. Their fragrances fill the room with sweet smells. One more flower, one more vase could cause a petal
explosion. It is overwhelming.
Car doors slam, people are beginning to arrive.
Quick exchanges of handshakes and hugs are accompanied by “glad to see
you” smiles. As the evening goes on more
people arrive. The mixture of laughter and
talking creates a buzz that drowns out individual conversations. It is overwhelming.
The children seem unaware of the concerns of the adults. They too are gathering, not for hugs and smiles,
but for the chance at freedom from their watchful parents. Soon the sounds of their
laughter and talking rise and join the buzz. It
is overwhelming.
The guest of honor and his wife are there now.
He is perfectly groomed and dressed in a new suit.
Some say he looks “good”. Sharp
creases and a flower in his lapel are the perfect finishing touches. It is overwhelming.
His wife begins to greet the visitors. She
isn’t wearing a flower, she doesn’t look “good”, and she is dressed in
black. There are long warm hugs and cautious
smiles. She has begun to cry. She turns to look at him. He doesn’t take her hand to comfort her. It is so hard not to cry, too. It is overwhelming.
The visitors continue to pass by; voices silent or subdued. The smiles are almost all gone. There are crying faces, praying faces, and
questioning faces. There is no explanation. It is overwhelming.
The children have begun to pass by too. They
don’t lower their eyes or their voices. Against
silenced background noises their young voices accentuate what adults must be thinking; he
is so cold or I think he will come out of there. Their
hugs too are warm but brief. They too
understand sadness. It is overwhelming.
Some view death as a time for celebration. The
dead move to a better place with the burdens of life removed. I remember hearing that as a child. I try to believe that hoping it is a source of
comfort. But really it seems that those left
behind only understand their own sadness. It
is overwhelming.
Terry Cunningham
June 2002