Six years ago in January, my Grandfather Dale passed away in Illinois. My family had to scramble to get there for his funeral, and they asked me to speak during the ceremony. I had a lot of music work happening at the time, and had only the plane ride to prepare my speech.
I have in my possession my Grandfather's letters home from when he was in Europe during WWII. I decided I should read one of those letters...but which one?!? There are close to 100 of them, and they are all lovely and emotional. As the plane departed, I silently asked my Grandfather to give me a sign as to which letter he wanted me to read. After about 30 letters, I came across one in particular from 1944, it made me laugh out loud. It had a special energy...it talked about how much he missed his children and my Grandmother Wanda, and said cute things like, "Don't worry about me honey, I'm saving all my love up for YOU (if you know what I mean.") I felt a strong sense that this letter was perfect for his funeral.
When I arrived in Illinois, my mother picked me up and we drove straight to the funeral home. On the way, I read her this letter "I' had chosen. Reading, reading...I came to a part that said "Honey, you said you wrote me on Sunday, January 8th, but you were mistaken...Sunday was January 7th." My mom gasped and nearly swerved off the road. "What? What?" I yelled. After a moment, she quietly said, "Today is January 7th." We sat there in silence. My Grandfather had made a point of mentioning January 7th, the day of his own funeral, almost 60 years before. This is the only letter in the bunch that mentions specific dates. It was clear that he really had shown me which letter he wanted me to read, and I cried with my mom.
Within the hour, I was standing next to his open casket, addressing a huge room of our relatives. My Grandmother Wanda, his beloved wife of 65 years sat weeping in the front row. As I spoke about my Grandfather and read his chosen letter, I felt proud to represent him. I was very overwhelmed at first by his dead body, but looking at his shell in that casket, I calmly realized without a doubt that he was not there. I said this to the mourners. We simply leave the body behind like an old coat. But we stay around our loved ones always...giving them signs, impressions, comfort.
When I arrived in Illinois, my mother picked me up and we drove straight to the funeral home. On the way, I read her this letter "I' had chosen. Reading, reading...I came to a part that said "Honey, you said you wrote me on Sunday, January 8th, but you were mistaken...Sunday was January 7th." My mom gasped and nearly swerved off the road. "What? What?" I yelled. After a moment, she quietly said, "Today is January 7th." We sat there in silence. My Grandfather had made a point of mentioning January 7th, the day of his own funeral, almost 60 years before. This is the only letter in the bunch that mentions specific dates. It was clear that he really had shown me which letter he wanted me to read, and I cried with my mom.Within the hour, I was standing next to his open casket, addressing a huge room of our relatives. My Grandmother Wanda, his beloved wife of 65 years sat weeping in the front row. As I spoke about my Grandfather and read his chosen letter, I felt proud to represent him. I was very overwhelmed at first by his dead body, but looking at his shell in that casket, I calmly realized without a doubt that he was not there. I said this to the mourners. We simply leave the body behind like an old coat. But we stay around our loved ones always...giving them signs, impressions, comfort.
So next time you need to make a decision, next time you feel afraid or sad or happy...talk to someone on the other side. I promise you they are listening.
...and of course I went to museums. Beginning to see a pattern here? We had the day off in Pittsburgh, and I took a cab to 'The Mattress Factory Museum'. It features room-size installation art...meaning the entire room IS the art piece, and you're in it. (I pictured my favorite rooms). The rest were pitch black, and you only saw the art creation once you sat long enough for your eyes to adjust. Since I went alone, I was too chicken to sit in the dark...so I missed half the museum!
