Lorraine

On Saturday, we had the funeral for my Great Aunt Lorraine.

Its crazy to say, but as my great aunt, she is the closest person to me that has ever died.

I had the privilege of reading a poem that I wrote for her at her funeral, and even though I was nervous beforehand and wishing that I could just fade into the masses...I am glad I did.

It made me think how often I probably don't say what I mean--that I love people, that I miss people, that they have made a significant difference in my life, that they give my life purpose and meaning, that I believe God placed them right here to give me hope when I can't see it myself.

Lorraine, you brought me joy, and laughter, and understanding. You reminded me that earthly life is not that significant--Jesus is. To you, and your sense of humor that could always make me smile, I leave this tribute:

It is the first time death stares back at me.
The wiry, yellow-stained tubes encircling, leading everywhere
and nowhere, all at once
the small, white-walled room surrounds us
in its dismal lighting and icy blue tile.

Amidst the beep, beep, beep of death-resistant machinery
and the clomp, clomp, clomp of people passing by
lies the woman I love.
Her wrinkled, bruised hand, her soft, blue eyes
strain to tell each of us good-bye.

I, too, search for reassurance
In the whispered words that I am relieved
to have the chance
In the clasp of her hand that offers,
with much effort, a faint sqeeze
In the knowledge that the woman I love
has not the strength she once had
to captivate a room with laughter
instead of muffled tears.

In the midst of uncommon words
such as “I love you”
she leans forward with a born-again twinkle in her eye.
As she glances over my summer-dressed body, she says
“I have a dying wish.”
I lean in thinking of all she might say…
“Keep your family close and God closer”
“Enjoy the little moments”
Or maybe even “Remember the time I have spent with you.”

In my thoughts enters the words of the wise woman I love,
“Kristin...” she says with renewed clarity and strength,
“Promise me that you will always keep your girlish figure.”

To which my smile through tears erupted in a room of laughter and
For a moment, the woman I love is the woman I knew.