measi's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- A long, difficult two days... We laid Grandma to rest today. It's been a long 48 hours. But sitting here tonight, I feel calm and peaceful. Grandma's at rest after a long, full life. So many people came... to the funeral home, to mass this morning, all the way to Doylestown, which is about an hour's drive south of Easton, to Our Lady of Czestochowa (pronounced chan-stoh-hov-na). While I'm sad she's gone, part of me just feels happy that the love she gave us for so many years was a wellspring over the last two days. It's amazing how many lives she touched, and how many people came to us, telling us of small things they remembered my grandmother I think the most powerful thing for me these last two days was last night's viewing at the funeral home. I had seen a dead body before in my life, but not of someone I personally knew. And because of the medications my grandmother had taken for the past six weeks prior to her death, she didn't look that familiar to me. The steroids she'd taken had puffed out her face-- it looked so much fuller. I had to convince myself that it actually was her lying in that coffin. I broke down when I first saw her body. My brother had to support me for a few moments because I was trying to keep from crying. It all hit me at once. And then, other than a few moments here and there of getting briefly choked up, I was fine throughout the rest of the services. The most powerful one was a brief service in Polish at the viewing last night. I've heard Polish spoken around me all of my life. I understand a few words here and there, but not enough to really carry on a conversation with someone who is speaking to me in Polish. By the end of the viewing last evening, there were about fifty people sitting in the funeral home for the Polish prayers. And one of the prayers they did was the Rosary-- the complete circle of the rosary, which I'd never heard in any language other than in English. It was beautiful, rhythmic... even moreso than the Rosary is in English. I watched my grandfather, who spoke the entire set of prayers without missing a beat, and without a set of beads to keep his count. He's done this all of his life, and it brought him an amazing amount of peace for the time it took to do the meditation. My uncle's eulogy was simple, yet also a wonderful tribute to her-- and also to my grandfather. He emphasized how half of her life was devoted to her faith, and half was devoted to her family. How she and my grandfather worked hard to improve the lives of their children, and how my uncle hoped that her death was a pinnacle of her achievements, with the incredibly strong family that had been created because of her love. My brother, my cousin Kathryn, and I were the gift bringers for today's Mass. I had to chuckle to myself silently how ironic it was for a Pagan to be participating actively in a Catholic Mass-- and in the one ceremony of Mass that is so close to a Pagan ritual in itself-- the Eucharist. I did not, however, partake in communion, this weekend. While I was confirmed as a teenager, since I no longer practice Christianity, it's not right for me to partake of it anymore. I did go up to the priest, but simply bowed my head for a blessing, rather than accept the wafer. And that brought up That Whole Can Of Worms with a couple of my relatives this evening, once we'd returned from Doylestown. Not in a bad way, but a few people noticed (thankfully NOT my grandfather). My mother had requested of me to not let my grandmother know that I was no longer a practicing Christian, because it would have upset her greatly. And my mom was right--- my grandmother was very devout in her faith, and was upset when my mother was baptized into the Episcopal faith when my parents were married. We didn't even want to go into what would happen with me. So I've kept it silent. When I've gone to church with my grandparents over the years, I've accepted communion, even though I knew it was the wrong thing to do. I didn't know that I *could* simply bow my head before the priest, and receive a blessing, rather than take communion. Needless to say, I was "outed" this evening because of that today. To a few relatives-- who quietly nodded and said that while they weren't sure if they were comfortable with my faith, they were also in agreement that I did what was needed for Grandma, and that they were glad that I did. It's still going to be kept quiet because of my grandfather and a couple other relatives who are devout, though. It was funny to have people exclaim "so THAT's what that pendant of yours is. I wondered why you always wear it..." Hopefully now that my grandmother's soul can see everything around me, she'll understand. ~ Mel. 10:52 p.m. - 18 August 2003 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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