Life
Fragile as glass
Delicate as snow
Transient as an echo
In our hands and out
Love, protect, cherish.
I just recently came back from Katie’s dad’s funeral up in Collingwood. It was the second funeral that I had attended in a year, and I think that the reality of death struck me a lot stronger this time. For the MacDougalls, the loss was a complete, forceful surprise.
The maturity with which they dealt with it, however, was very inspiring; Katie’s mom was mostly composed and her sentiment was beautifully expressed when she sang “It Is Well With My Soul.” The kids were also surprisingly together, even little TJ. I guess they were all sure that their dad was in a better place.
Rest in peace, Mr. MacDougall.
Throughout the service, I was thinking about what would happen if one of my parents passed away. Would I be able to handle it? How would I handle a funeral? Who would be invited? Would I want to give a eulogy? What would I say?
Then I thought about the possibility of my own funeral. What would my parents be able to say about me? How would they know how to get in touch with some people that mean so much to me?
The answer to all of these is, not surprisingly, “I don’t know.” I’ve probably commented before on the nature of my relationship with my parents; namely, I am not particularly close with either of them. My successes, failures, ambitions, fears, worries, and secrets are known by a select few, and my parents are not among them.
This was made really apparent to me today, when I witnessed so many people who knew all about Mr. MacDougall and all of the things that he had done. The thought then crossed my mind, do I want to be closer with my parents? Heck, they don’t even know that I have had this site for three years.
Stink. I’m stuck at a crossroads, and I know that time isn’t really on my side. Not to be morbid or anything, but the reality is that something will happen. What do I do?
