Today was a day of chaos and memories.
A mess of thoughts and past realities.
I visited a place I idealized and found echos of the ideal and realities that subterfuge that ideal.
I stood in a funeral home alone with a body for 10 minutes.
It was a different type of visitation.
Yet in a city I was born in. Of which I have flawed and imperfect memories.
Sharing space with a body in a weird space between now and then felt very…
Normal? Comfortable? Ok?
This man was loved in life. His accomplishments on a table. Yet in some weird moment of timing. It was just me and him.
A man I didn’t know. But who I had come to mourn through family obligation. Not obligation then duty. It’s a fine line.
I was warmed by the way this many was spoken of, the way his family and friends wrote and told his story.
Here in this place that I have such connection to, but not hold on, this place that my memory of has had a hold on me.
It was a ridiculous juxtaposition. Me returning to my place of birth to walk into a place of death. A funeral home. A visitation. In so many different ways.
He seemed peaceful in his repose. I aim for that level of comfort in reality some day.
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