incense

I'm in the computer lab...I've reminisced, I've spent a sleepless night remembering everything, the ceremony, the fifteen years we spent learning from him... and I just can't seem to let go of anything. Let me tell you how it went, so that it seems so much less like a dream and so much more like reality. Reality, the one thing I'm trying to escape, has finally caught up to me. But still...this is a modified version of events, since this is a public blog after all.

DingDong

"TINAAAAAA! HE'S HERE!" I tumbled down the stairs and wrenched open the front door, (it's got one of those odd vacuum things) ushering Lemon inside. We dawdled around upstairs until my brother, who had come home from London expressly for this ceremony ushered us into the car. It was not more than a three minute drive away, but we were still shivering with the cold as we forced ourselves to walk into the church. It wouldn't do to be running in at a time like this. Unsure, I lingered in the lobby with old friends while Lemon went to go pay his respects. I'd resolved not to go see his body...I wanted to remember him as he was before.

Eventually Movie came in and I accompanied him up. It was too much. The little cards with his pictures on him didn't look anything like him...he didn't even look anything like him. The only way I could tell it was real was his hands...the same hands that are the only thing I can remember. It was too much for Movie too. I took him to my brother and we tried our best to make the hurting stop but sometimes you can't let it work that way. After a while, I left with some friends, as well as Movie to go see if they needed help at the back. I handed out the deceitful little cards, I asked if they wanted to make donations, I said, "Would you like to sign the registry?" All the while my friends and I stood in that little line, a sentry of the youth he'd taught the essence of being Catholic, and shared his stories. It was the beginning of healing. The only way we could really let him leave forever is if we forgot him, and what he had done for us. "Father, I threw peanuts in the water!" "PING! A special blessing." "You should all consider Holy Orders." "Do you want to see all my pockets?" "My brother." "We stood by the river." "It was a miracle." "This is our faith." "This is our faith."This...is our faith." So we'll pass on the message and vow never to forget.

The mass began...we stood outside of the church waiting, as ushers do, and listening, as ushers sometimes do. The phrase of the night was, "You okay?" followed a nod of the head. The homily- eulogy? was appropriate. It was so shocking to see the 10 or more priests, and three Franciscan Friars creating a circle of golden vestments, interspersed with brown. The mass was beautiful...and over quite soon. As the youth assembled a pathway for the procession and the casket to follow, we watched as incense floated up to the top of the Church, hovering over the alter and finally reaching us way in the lobby. The priests crowded behind our path as the pallbearers processed and joined our line up. Father Reg. blessed the casket with Holy Water, as the incensed flowed through the area. As the ushers and youth we had the closest view of it all happening...and suddenly, he was gone. The Mass was over, and Friar Guy Gartland was on his way to New York. We re-grouped, calmed ourselves down, and headed for the sanctuary of the hall. And then we told stories...more of them, more of our memories until we could laugh while still thinking of him.

My brother sought us out and Lemon and I headed home, not quite ready to let go, but a little closer. For me, at least. I wonder what happened at Ms. Waskel's...