finding life in ambivalent places

today was my grandpa's funeral. last night his wife and three sons went with their families to a viewing of his body at the funeral home. we went to look at my grandpa laid out in a coffin; but it wasn't my grandpa. i said (and my family will remind me) how weird it was multiple times. it was strange to see an empty body in front of me, something that looked sort of like my grandpa, but his face wasn't lit up with a smile. we cried and we looked at the flowers that people had sent, and it was weird for awhile. and then my dad stood up and started telling stories about my grandpa, in a demonstrative manner which he got from his dad (and i got from mine). and we laughed. i have never laughed with my aunts and uncles and cousins and grandma like that before. and i'm sad that it took my grandpa's death to make it okay for us to laugh like that, but it was wonderful. it felt like we were really together. and all the while, the empty body that used to hold my grandpa laid in a coffin in front of us. weird. when did we start this tradition anyway? and maybe a better question is, why?

and today, there he was again, in the coffin in the front of the church. and there were more stories told, and pictures, and we laughed and we cried. and as we walked out behind the coffin after the service was over, i was blown away by how many people were there. my dad had told us there would be standing room only, but to see people waiting not only in the front lobby of the church, but standing outside the church building, was incredible. my grandpa touched a lot of people's lives. and we were touched by their presence today.

tonight we ate mexican food and drank wine and sat outside on the back porch, talking about the day and remembering my grandpa. and it was good.

here are two articles about my grandpa's life - this is my heritage...

east valley tribune

arizona republic

i wrote this song a couple of weeks ago, prompted by my grandma's encouragement to keep at my music and my grandpa's entering hospice care. i had hoped to send a recording of it home to play for him, but he died on monday morning. this is the story of my grandparents...

She sat behind him in their fifth grade class
She stands beside him now
And she remembers all the life they’ve shared,
And wonders how they made it here

She wants to make sure that their stories are remembered
Do we know who they are?

What will they leave behind?
How will they be remembered?
Never a man so kind,
Or a woman so tender

He couldn’t wait to give her his last name
So he ignored his own advice
When he came home they had just one week
But he had to make her his wife

They stood together in the backyard with some friends
They didn’t know what the future would hold

He made it home just a couple years later
And they began a family
He took the land they had and made it prosper
While she helped their boys grow into men

She got a call one day that changed their lives forever
They didn’t know if he would live

Now they’ve been married over 60 years
And although their life’s been hard
They stayed together through the toughest times and
They’re still learning what their love can look like

Their boys are grown now and they’ve got nine grandchildren
And we know, and their stories we hold

What will they leave behind?
How will they be remembered?
Never a man so kind
Or a woman so tender

She sat behind him in their fifth grade class
She stands beside him now

maybe if you catch me on a day i'm feeling brave i'll play it for you