Three funerals this week. Went to first one yesterday. It was of a man that had lived a good life. He was refugee. Escaped the Vietnam during time of war time evacuation. Traveled to Oklahoma via the PI. Became a pharmacist. His passing left many people feeling empty. I know. Saw it in their eyes. It was a the Heart yesterday morning. Never attended a Vietnamese funeral. Catholics they were. Hearing them speak in the guttural cadence that is uniquely Vietnamese. I understood the format, the cadence of the service. It was morning mass for those attending. There was communion, singing, sadness, cries. It was unusual. There was videographer, a photographer and the attendees. It was unusual for me to see to this. Guess, it’s the noveaux thing. Weddings I understand. We want to remember the celebration of a glorious time. But the videotaping of someone’s passing? I don’t know. Guess, this is the way. 
Last funeral , less than a month ago, one of the pallbearer was using his Iphone to record the event. It was his son, though. When he spoke about his father’s passing at the church lectern, there was deep sadness and anger there. Guess, he had certain license to speak his heart, troubling as that may be. It was hard to watch. Hard to be witness to, but in these moments one realizes one’s own impact he has on others. Little things we do and don’t do. Things that are bigger than bigger than what we realize. It is like a stream that veers to the left instead of the right. It seems so small and inconsequential. It is how one turns left instead of right. One great river becomes two. A destiny branches from one possibility to another. 
One so hurt by the accidental. One so troubled by the rivers changed. One so fraught. Can’t say the torrents of life is not without its whitewater. It is not without its calm moments. It is not without its many, many wonders and dangers. So many possibilities have these secondary, and tertiary effects that can never predicted or explained. That momentary brush of the lips. That unyielding eyes that says, “No.” That realization that it is better to go without than become someone you were not supposed to be.
No one could know what tomorrow brings. It is perhaps better this way. To know apocalypse is tomorrow or the next day. Sure prophecies speak of a life destined to be. But how can one really be free if the future is foretold. How can we be allowed to make choices to be or not to be? How can the decision tree be decided if it was all preplanned, preordained, predicted? Sure there is a certainty to how life effects us, changes us, it molds us.
Rivers diverge, changes course, turns a different corner. So many roads to . . .are paved with good intentions. We cannot or should not dismiss the mysteries of the world. It is vital to examine our life, our course, and listen to heart. There is a plan. There is free will. There is a destiny. It is how we decide to face to be. We can be so much more. So much less. So much. Decisions must be made. In the end, does it matter? Of course, it does.
I’ll be attending another two funerals this week. One for a family friend’s father. Another for a high school friend’s father. Emptiness will fill this week. Crying, singing, remembering. People dressed in black. A procession, a march of the casket. Flowers being tossed on top. White headbands. Dark glasses, and many people’s head bowed down in respect and sadness. Friends of long ago. Relative’s unknown. Fathers’ friends of yesteryear will appear and disappear like pebbles in a torrent. Their lives going the way their river takes them.
It’s a remarkable things these funerals. People dressed in black, coming to remember, to share, to pay homage to someone that has affected their lives. Sometimes hard feelings are found. Sometimes, truth is revealed. Sometimes a show is put on by those less than. People look at life differently, their filters are skewed. They seek energy by acting the drama queen. They play games of mystery and aloofness. Its how people do things. Walking through roles, playing parts that brings them comfort. It gets them through the day, until the time comes to shed their mortal coils.
Started this blog with a death. It was the passing of my neighbor’s son. Four in car died because of reasons I don’t remember. My neighbor has moved, moved on. Physically and spiritually. In their absence, there home is being used for some church events, I think. Cars still park up front, Music and dancing still occur and people of all ages seem to go away happy. Not sure I understand what all these means. Its nice to know in Andre’s absence, a new spiritualness thrives. In places, energies are attract. Like waterfalls and mountain tops. May never understand the feng shui, but that is the fun part. It’s the discovery and experience. It when all things become revealed. The dharma of karma. Drama R Us. Life is fun. Let’s live it. It’s the mystery of it all that fills us. It is discovering and uncovering the meaning of things. Its learning the beauty of life and realizing that there is so much more, so much more, so much more.
When we meet these people again, we will learn the meaning of it all. Until then embrace, enjoy, and take it all in. The universe leaves us clues all around. Link to death of neighbor's son
