Letting Go

The earth seems to give up many people in peace. With acceptance. Warm sunny days kiss coffins goodbye and gentle winds urge on the passing of our loved ones. Sometimes accompanied by a gentle shower - I (in my flowery prose) imagine maybe angel tears.

Not so last Saturday. The cemetary covered in snow shivered in expectance and the wind howled and blew and fought. Bone chilling cold seeped into my veins and I imagined for one moment that my blood was ice and that I was a monument.

I stood still in the angry wind watched my cousins carry my Grandpa's coffin through the pouring snow. I watched my Father read from his Bible and heard his words. I held my Grandma's hand and my Mother touched my shoulder. The wind tried to push over the tent. The angry wind. A changing wind. My family stood and we all cried. And then we left the coffin there.

I felt that day that the world didn't want my Grandpa to go and that there were angels swirling all around us disguised by the snow. I felt that my Grandpa wasn't in that coffin, but in our hearts and watching us from behind the nearest tree. Urging us back to the warmth of our cars and the comfort of our family and friends.

I said goodbye once more and left.

Dulce suenos, my sweet Gramps. I'll see you again...