J & his twin nieces

The Thing Is
by Ellen Bass

to love life, to love it even
when you have no stomach for it
and everything you've held dear
crumbles like burnt paper in your hands,
your throat filled with the silt of it.
When grief sits with you, its tropical heat
thickening the air, heavy as water
more fit for gills than lungs;
when grief weights you like your own flesh
only more of it, an obesity of grief,
you think, How can a body withstand this?
Then you hold life like a face
between your palms, a plain face,
no charming smile, no violet eyes,
and you say, yes, I will take you
I will love you, again.

The funeral service for J was held yesterday. It was really something. So surreal. At the same time there was just so much love in the place.  Two monitors showed photos from his life, from when he was a baby through last weekend. His favorite music played throughout, most of it not what you might expect at a funeral service - Rap and heavy metal, and all sorts of dance music. He loved to dance. It was not a traditional service, but it was real and comfortable, authentic. The eulogy was amazing. It was given by a woman who has been in Js’ and his sister K’s lives since they were six and eight. A wise, eloquent woman who was able to weave all aspects of J's life into her remarks. His sister, mother of his twin nieces,  summoned her courage to speak as well, followed by two of his friends. There were well over 200 people at the service, most of them in their twenties and thirties. Not a crowd that should be mourning a loss of one of their own. 


After the service, the restaurant where J worked hosted a luncheon for everyone. The owner told us that eight months ago James walked in and asked him for a job. He didn’t have any experience. The owner asked why he should hire him. J said he loves to cook and he has learned a lot from watching cooking shows. The guy gave him a chance. He said he had done really well and was about to give J more responsibility. We thanked the man for giving him a chance to do what he had a passion for. We’re grateful for that. 



Thank you for the outpouring of sympathy, each message in time of need helps more than anyone knows. This community has always been here for me and I am grateful.


For the Record, 
This day came in sunny, cool, but with the hint of spring.


All hands healing.