It’s not easy heading back to work after a great weekend. The weather is hot and humid again. People seem to have issue with dialing internationally today (remember, by day, I’m Mr. Telephone Man.) After dancing through the weekend, it’s like reality has slapped you across the face. The alarm clock blares and off you go into the rat race.

Last night my sister called. My Aunt Rose passed away yesterday. She’s had some health problems for the past couple of months or so and apparently her death was related to that. She went quickly in her home before the ambulance had the chance to arrive. She was my sister’s godmother. I’m happy that we had the opportunity to see her a couple weeks ago at a graduation party. She seemed happy, despite side effects from her medication. She smiled. We hugged.

I find it hard to see others at funeral services. I don’t mind seeing the deceased, as I know that they’ve already left this world and are now experiencing eternal happiness. When I look in a casket, I don’t see my relative or friend, I see what they’ve left behind. A car without the driver, if you will. I prefer closed casket services, simply because it allows me to focus on the memories instead of the body. But what I really don’t like is to to see others grieve. (Who would like it, after all?) It’s because I can’t help them. I can’t take their pain away. I want to say “They’re happy now. They’re at peace! They’re looking down upon us. They’re right here. Smile, celebrate their life and dream about them tonight. Close your eyes and listen to their whispers. Feel the eternal love they’re feeling. Give them a great big hug and tell them to give God a kiss for you.” But I never say those things. I’m afraid I’ll cross a line. Everyone has a grieving process that they go through. I must allow them the luxury of their personal journey. So I hold a hand, I hug, I mumble my sympathy, I relive some memories and I try to make them smile.

Rest in peace, Aunt Rose. Make sure God doesn’t get too sweaty.*

* inside family joke.

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