Another Funeral

"I know for certain that we never lose the people we love, even to death. They continue to participate in every act, thought and decision we make. Their love leaves an indelible imprint in our memories. We find comfort in knowing that our lives have been enriched by having shared their love." - Leo Buscaglia

I was very surprised and saddened on Monday morning, to read in the newspaper that the wife of one of my former colleagues, had passed away. Judy was just 50 years old. I read the death notice just a few minutes before I was heading downtown to sit an exam - the first I have taken in thirty-six years. I was nervous but somehow the solemn news of her passing helped me to gain some perspective. It was just an exam - success largely a matter of pride but not of life and death. I sat the exam and now await results, not expected for about six weeks. Depending on the outcome, I will or won't write more about that another time.

Today was the funeral. The mass was at a large Catholic church in Mississauga. Participation in mass, for me, is a matter of rote. I can normally do the responses in my sleep. But some things recently changed in the celebration of mass and suddenly it seemed quite foreign to me. Not a frequent church goer, I felt a little bit lost. There were no books in the pews to guide me through. The church was pretty full, though the pew I was in stayed empty save one lone man who sat at the other end. I saw some former colleagues arrive in clusters. Most did not acknowledge me. One old colleague on the executive team smiled and gave a brief wave. A couple of others looked right through me. After the mass, people collected in front of the church. I gave David, Judy's husband, a hug and then stood alone while waiting for the bereaved family to head for to the cemetery for a private service. I didn't see anyone I knew and after ten or fifteen minutes, realized that the family members weren't leaving anytime soon so I headed toward my car. Another one of my colleagues from the executive team walked by and looked at me without stopping. I touched her arm and we exchanged some quick hellos before she raced to her car. Time for me to take my leave. As I backed out of the parking lot I spotted more ex-colleagues, chatting in groups. One man gestured to me to roll down my window and when I did we exchanged a very brief and somewhat awkward hello.

As I drove home I thought about the strangeness of these interactions. I was on good terms with all these people. We were not friends but we were friendly, though from the day I started that job, it was clear to me that I was entering a private club that did not want me as a member. And here I am, years later - still the girl on the other side of the one-way glass. Feels like high school.