turn down upside

Yesterday was the barbecue with my grandmother and other family members. I had told my grandma on Saturday that we would show up Sunday at about 12:30. After a heart attack at the first church service, attending the second service, and a couple hours for portraits of Richie and my little sister Ryann, we finally made at 4:00 p.m. Everyone was already there. I couldn't even get in the door to greet everyone before I was hit with a crowd of hugs and strange hands reach out to touch Richie. Richie was really good about being passed around.

I can't, honestly, say that it wasn't strange seeing all my family members like that. What they lack in normalcy they make up for generously with dysfunction. Since my papa passed away, we've been stuck. The whole lot of us, stuck. I didn't realize his extraordinary staying power until we all fell apart without him. When he got cancer, we two steps behind but protected him all the same. Before the cancer could kill him, we submerged him in love. He couldn't take a full breath, but he breathed love onto all of us. I think he would cry if he saw the ash we are. I am. I am ash. Every time I hum my favorite song, photograph a moment, share a bit of time with the ones I love, I wonder what stories they'll tell at my funeral. Will anyone remember my favorite song? Will I die before my dad? Will I bury my son? Will he bury me? With a disturbing detachment, I associate everything with death. How long can tragedy attack this family before we all fall victim to perpetual funeral planning?

All these thoughts were running through my mind as I visited with my family. Since we can't function without him, we are always telling stories about him or talking about what he would do if he were still here. We all kept so much of him alive, and maybe that makes it harder to move on. It's like he is still with us everyday. I look at my grandma, now great grandmother to my son, and wonder how burying two lovers could leave her with a life worth waking up to. I see the mark of misfortune on each of us, and I wonder why do any of us get out of bed in the morning.

Then I look at my son and I remember what a blessing life is.