Poshdeluxe

i don’t think i’ve ever said this before, but i’m glad the holidays are over.

i’m also relieved that 2004 is finished with me. although, what does
that really mean, anyway? the events in our lives reject any sort of
calendar, let alone a system of order. on the other hand, humans
invented time to gain a sense of control, without which maybe we’d all
go crazy. or not. i don’t know. but i do believe that people need the
idea of a new year, a clean slate, a chance to start again… to make
resolutions, to reform themselves, to forgive and love more deeply.

it was so *good*, to be at home with my mom and dad and uncle scott.
but it was also hard, harder than it’s ever been. i visited my
grandmother three times and managed not to cry in front of the
shriveled up beings who used to be full of life and limitless horizons,
just like me. just like me. i like to think of death as an
endless horizon, so at least the dying always have one more threshold
of possibility. so at least my grandmother has some place better to go,
beyond her paralyzed body and twisted mouth and faded memories…
memories that have burned and burned until there’s nothing left but
smoldering ash.

on christmas day, a good family friend passed away. her name was
margaret, and together with her husband, doug, she took care of my
uncle scott (he has some mental disabilities and as a result is sweetly
childlike). she had recently undergone surgery for some digestive
problems, but it wasn’t supposed to end like this, with her passing
from this earth. well, i guess it was… it does… eventually… for
everyone… but for her, we never thought it would happen so soon. it
was a terrible shock, especially for scott and my mother. doug called
to say that margaret only had a few hours left, so we gathered around
our kitchen table and held hands and prayed that she would be released
from her pain, from this life. and she was, only an hour later.

we went to her funeral on december 28th, and it was beautiful. she came
from a huge hispanic family, and they filled up the funeral home in
full force. one of her nieces, a girl with braces who couldn’t be older
than 15, held her son, a bright-eyed, chubby, perfect baby, and sat
in the pew right in front of me. my heart smiled at his soft tufts of
black hair and the dancing light in his eyes and the dimpled hands that
kept eagerly reaching for mine. it was a stark juxtaposition, this baby
between margaret’s body and me… a symbol that was almost too obvious
but necessary in its simplicity, in its purity. it was at that moment,
as i smiled and faced death with this laughing, cooing little boy, that
i truly felt christmas. i celebrated it, without cliches or presents or
twinkly lights. i celebrated it, in sadness and mourning, in spite of
(or maybe because of) an unwilling, heavy heart.

i looked over at my uncle scott, who sat gazing at a stained glass
window with eyes full of peace. i thought about how much his life will
change… will he stay with doug? will he be ok without margaret’s
mothering? i thought with anguish about my parents… yet another hard
decision for them to make after weeks of dealing with my grandmother’s
stroke and the numbing, almost malicious paperwork. but scott smiled,
gently, quietly. he knew that margaret was in a better place, knew it
in the farthest reaches of his soul. he smiled with the assurance that
everything would be ok, in the end. his childlike heart trusted, with
the simplest and most pure faith, in the light of god.

i long to be more childlike… for that dancing spark in the baby’s
eyes… for that peaceful smile spreading across scott’s face… a
living, breathing awareness of the wonder and beauty of life, found even in my
grandmother’s last endless horizon.

so this is the new year.