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HYAKUJO’S FOX 無門關 二
The old, crippled foxcrawled slowly from the mouthof the dark cave. Sidling up to Hayakujothe old monk said to fox,“think fox, useno mind to thinkno thing. Fox paused in reflection.Cremated bones, fleshand fur were lovingly buriedin a monk’s funeral. A reflection on Case 2 of the Mumonkan 無門関 (The Gateless Gate Koans)
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BREATHE DEEPLY
Funerals can be such incredibly sadevents, and rightly so for farewellsare never easy, especially final ones.But the deceased doesn’t benefit,only the mourners do and it isfor them that the events are held.When my time comes, if my familychooses to have one, and I will haveno say in the matter so don’t ask,I do have a…
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TOTTERING
The world did not collapse today,although it tottered on the edge againas it does most days in recent memory.As a child we expected the world might endunless we hid under our deskswhen the alarms went off, so littledid we know about nuclear weaponsand what could be more uselessthan a desk at or near ground zero.We…
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FUNERIAL
There are two types of gravesidefunerals for most people,three in my case, for twiceI have conducted the service wheremy attention was focusedon the prayers I would read.The two other types differ onlyin whether the departedis a close relativeor beloved friend,or someone more distantwhere you attend out of duty.For the beloved your attentionis on the casket…
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THE EASE OF FORGETTING
I have little memory of the manwho was my first adoptive fatherand none of his funeral, two-year-olds,my mother said, should notknow of death at that age.Nor did I attend my grandmother’s,she the mother of my second adoptive fatherbecause 12-year-old shouldn’thave the memory of funerals,according to my mother.I did attend her mother’s funeral,had to because I…
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EULOGY
In a perfect world it would bea requirement that every personupon reaching the age of 40would be compelled to writea draft of a eulogy in the voiceof each lover or partner whoserelationship he or she chose to end,one that the spurned loverwould deliver at his or her funeral.The task would comewith the caveat that one…
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WHITE BREAD
He was nondescript, innocuous. He named his dog Dog. His cat was called Cat. He grew daring with his parakeet and named it Wings. He wore beige from head to toe. Even his Sunday best, his “weddings and funerals suit” he called it, was beige. People wondered if his underwear was beige. He swore that…
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SIX FEET UNDER
I remember the afternoonwas cold and damp, with a persistentdrizzle that escapedthe clustered umbrellas,the sky a blanket slowly sheddingthe water that soaked itas it sat out on the clothesline. I suspect you would haveliked it this way, everyone in attendance,everyone shuffling their feet,wanting to look skyward,knowing they would see onlya dome of black umbrella domes.…
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R.I.P.
We are planning the funeralfor Roe today, eulogiesfully ready, for we are certainthe death was slow and painfuland now all we can do is mourn. Some we know will not attend,Brown out of fear, knowingthe eventual consequencesof this loss, Miranda becausehe is already marked, houndedby those in power, an easy mark. Sullivan may be there,…
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THE TIE’S LAMENT
I still have the tieI wore to m grandmother’sfuneral, one I conducted,but the suit from that dayis long gone, and just as well,for it would be several sizestoo large for the present me. I’ve only worn the tie oncesince that rainy day in Marylandand then to a weddingto balance out the sadnesswith a bit of…
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an old writer and his words 