Written in response to Shafali’s Creativity Carnival picture below
Just my thoughts on this one….
Look at that spider, huddled in the middle of his home, comforted by the stillness of his surroundings. Is he waiting for that bell to ring? Is he waiting for the bell to toll signifying the loss of another loved one? Look at the rain, how it caresses the side of the bell, like tears cascading from above.
Sad to say, the only time I hear bells chime are at funerals. Furthermore, funerals, I think, are not how they are supposed to be these days. (Were they ever? Please enlighten me if that is the case.) They have turned more into a family reunion. A time where we gather to catch up on our lives. A meet n greet with a casket beside us.
Take for instance the most recent passing in my family – my Great Uncle Pete. He lived to the grand age of 92. It was a small gathering, with a typical church ceremony, and a quaint eulogy spoken by a dear family friend. Afterwards, we sat at tables, eating delectable dainties and asking each other questions. “What’s new? How are you? Are you enjoying retirement? ” Not a word was spoken about poor Uncle Pete. Not a word.
It fills me with guilt. Certainly we should have sat around and marveled over his life, his accomplishments? He lived to 92! Imagine the changes he had seen through out his life. And the knowledge he gathered? Should we not have shared some of his words of wisdom? He was always so happy to share what he knew. His mind was sharp up until his last breath.
I tried to initiate some conversation by asking questions about the stories he shared, but no one replied. They glanced over those questions just like they glanced over his body in the casket when they walked by.
Nope, not one word was spoken about the man we buried. Not one word.