I experience an odd sense of peace whenever I go to a funeral home.
Kika and I went to a wake this morning.
Her classmate's dad passed away unexpectedly.
After we left, Kika said that she was glad that she went.
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Kika and Gabi have been protected as much as possible from life but were never shielded from death.
When Kika was 5, we had gone to the viewing of my SIL Raff's grandmother. Kika asked if she could go up to the casket and feel the deceased's forearm. She was so intrigued by how death looked so much like sleep.
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The widow, the mother of Kika's classmate wore a beautiful emerald green cheongsam (Asian traditional dress with the mandarin collar and two slits on the side) to her husband's funeral.
This was striking to me because
a) she is not Asian.
b) she wore it because it is the last dress her husband bought for her two weeks ago when they were away on vacation.
c) she wore a traditional dress in such an untraditional way.
To me this demonstrates such spunk, resilience and a desire to honor love.
I found peace in that.
I too, was glad that I went.
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