Endings and Beginnings

No yellow dragons at Grandma’s funeral, I am sad to report. Mom decided that she would buy me something, anything else to wear. So on Tuesday morning we went on a mad hunt through Foley’s and Sears, looking for something that she would consider “appropriate.” I considered the taiji jacket eminently appropriate, as it is my uniform. Mom had voices in her head whispering “Did you hear what Hazel’s granddaughter wore to her funeral?” Telling me this actually amused me, so that I was even more determined to wear my yellow dragons. If I’d had a real taiji sword, instead of my wooden practice one, I would have strapped that to my back as well. At any rate, we found nothing at all that was even worth trying on, and finally I told her that she might as well just get me a plain black taiji tunic. So we went back to the Asian Store, and they did have a plain black tunic in my size, but they also had a black shirt that wasn’t quite a taiji tunic, with a black dragon embroidered onto it. I told my mom I would wear either, and she/we went with the black on black dragon. I still think Grandma would have loved it if I’d worn the yellow dragons, but Mom was getting close to apoplexy, so I gave in.

The funeral was this morning. Methodist. Lots of old hymns. Just the way Grandma would have wanted it. I’m sure others found it comforting, but I stopped finding hymns or bible verses comforting as soon as I started actually listening to what they said. I think most people just hear what they want to hear and ignore the rest. I gave that up a long time ago. The casket was open before the funeral began, and Grandma did not look remotely like herself. She had nearly wasted away to nothing over the past few months, and the spark that made her her had gone. Mom saw it too. No one else commented on it.

Strangely, Akron feels more like home to me than Pocatello does, yet I’ve never stayed in Akron for more than two weeks at a time. I can feel…deep roots, here, connecting me to this place. My roots aren’t so strong in Pocatello. I’ve often had the feeling that it’s time to move on, but it feels stronger this time. At the very least, I think I’ll go on walk-about (or drive-about) this summer, and stay away for long periods of time. I don’t feel like anything’s holding me there any more. Maybe nothing ever was.