The casket's closed.

I don't remember looking at a dead person before. I remember barely seeing the girl I was named after at 17 and a day, white, with a bright pink dress on laying still in a coffin. At least that's how I remember it.

I want to be honest here, I didn't know my grandpa that well. One would say I didn't try when I had the chance. He was my grandpa. I remember how he smiled, joked, and talked business. I remember him, I 'knew' him.

His heart attack left him fairly immobile and I didn't know what to think, do or say when visiting. I'd just look at him. Weak, damn skinny, and whimpering. He was in so much pain. I kept staring at him, coughing and choking, crying afterwards fighting the pain. I kept wondering why we were doing this to him. Why are we doing this? Why can't we let him go. How do we know this is what we should do? How do we know what to do now?

I tried to find some kind of explanation for all of these questions. My father, being a preacher, has visited so many nursing homes, hospitals, etc. I thought for sure he'd have SOME kind of useful advice.

"Why would you keep someone alive like this, knowing they're in so much pain? Why is this what has to happen?" If only there had been some way for me to prepare myself for his answer. "This is the price we pay for our sins, Dai, he's paying his dues... you know how he was, this is what he has to do to earn his way."

If I didn't know then, I sure know now that my father isn't who I should be asking for advice.


I found myself standing on one side of my grandfather, his younger sister on the other. She kept loudly repeating at him, "It's okay, Eddie, Sis is here!" I kept having this weird flash forward picturing myself at the side of my own older brother on his deathbed. Though I was having trouble hearing myself, "It's okay Travis, ...." I had to excuse myself.

What kind of mid-west hell am I living in to have my brother break the news to me that grandpa passed a few hours before, while I'm paused in the parking lot of Wal-Mart. Staring at the back of a Dodge Neon, license plate holding on by that last small screw...

I wasn't trying to be sneaky, Dad, when I didn't tell you my boyfriend, that you don't like and never will no matter what you say, and I got a HUGE speeding ticket on the way to get you ice from the closed at 4:30pm store, 15 miles away. I didn't think it was your business. Apparently the newspaper in the semi-larger town 20 miles away made sure it was yours and whoever else's. It was only half the cost of our monthly rent, no, I don't need any financial help.

Maybe since grandpa's passing I've thought more about taking better care of my relationship with my parents. Then I talk to them. Seriously? All we have to talk about is things we can never agree on? I'm trying here, but it's so hard.

I thought there was more time before the casket would be closed. I thought there'd be plenty of time to see him again, no matter how much I dreaded his stiff death being so obvious inside a box, I thought there'd be more time. I approached it, glanced in, I didn't recognize him. He looked peaceful. His hands were crossed, but some fingers were stiff and he wasn't cupping his other hand, he was stiffly poised in a "cupping fashion." I didn't think I was ready to look.

We were shooed into the back, back lobby. There was only family back there, where were all the others? The friends and community members? Through the funeral, and the speaking by various necessary and obviously unnecessary voices, all I could think about was that the casket was closed. They closed it already, I didn't get to look again, I didn't try to see him in all that make-up and white, stiffness. It's closed.

I've been thinking I need to spend more time building some kind of relationship with my family. I never thought I'd care enough, until I found out what it's like to know, you'll never see that person again - ever. How sad. I keep thinking about those times in college when Grandpa'd call and leave messages, I'd never answer, never call back. I don't want to do that to my parents, I'm so sorry I did it to Grandpa. I'll take the time, it's what I want.