doors open.
I hear the clicking of my heels
on the empty church floor.
my gaze travels,
across the empty seats
until they finally land on the altar.
his spirit burning,
the sounds of Ireland
linger in the background.
I remember
all the trips we took to France.
running wildly through the bedroom,
grabbing his compass to guide the plane.
standing on the red dock.
just talking
about all that lies ahead.
giving my speech at graduation
the hug he gave me
and the words he said
how he would always ask
the same two questions,
and give the same response when I answered them.
Christmas eve,
Thanksgiving,
Birthdays.
standing here now,
his compass in my hand.
staring at his face.
a culmination of paint and water.
creating a remedy for our sadness.
watching
waiting
as people fill in the seats
one
by
one
then it begins.
the sound of bagpipes fills the air
the flood gates open
as we sing his soul
back home
Natalie Ring is an undergraduate student studying Education and English. This piece was written in reflection on the life and death of her grandfather. It drew inspiration from their relationship to depict the experience of being at his funeral.
Heart. Gendelman, Irina. University of Washington, http://digitalcollections.lib.washington.edu/cdm/ref/collection/ua/id/2015