Capt. Cook and I attended a funeral this morning. We did not know the deceased woman well, but I know her husband. He and I serve together on a governing body, plus Capt. Cook and I both know the deceased's sister and family.
Grief is almost always apparent at a funeral, visitation or wake. In most cultures, public grieving is acceptable and often encouraged. Grieving is a way to excise sadness - however temporary the relief - and to publicly display affection and respect. Today there was one little mourner that captured my heart and attention.
She couldn't have been more than six or seven - a granddaughter of the deceased. Just the right age to understand that Grandma was not coming back. She sobbed non-stop from the time of visitation to minutes after the funeral service's conclusion.
I was her once and it took me back, just as if it were yesterday when my Nana died and I attended her funeral service.
How I loved Nana. Because my mother worked outside the home for most of my pre-marriage years, Nana was my care-giver until the time of her death, when I was about seven or eight years of age. I can still remember driving away from the cemetery, me turned around in the backseat, looking back at the cemetery and sobbing. I felt sadness when Grandad died (Nana's husband), even though I was only five or six, but it was nothing like the awful feeling I had when we buried my Nana. Years after her death, I could still be moved to tears thinking about her, realizing the great loss I had suffered. I still remember Nana, almost as if she were here only yesterday. I do not think I miss her any less, although my grief is not as palpable.
Yes, little girl, I do know how you feel. Your grandmother must have been a remarkable woman for you to miss her so much. Your grandmother was a very special lady to have you love her so much. I wanted to reach out, hold and hug you but I could only observe from a distance, knowing so well how you felt.
Ancora imparo
