I don’t know why I even hesitated when Andy called on Tuesday evening to let me know we were on for Wednesday. I couldn’t stay away.
Yes, it was a lot of driving and the heat made it more challenging but somehow, when we were all there in the middle of the woods, at that perfect resting spot for Eileen, I felt, I don’t know what I was feeling.
I watched the family more than I thought about my own feelings. Kevin’s son Zev read a powerful poem about grandmothers, mothers and daughters, the past and future.written by an Israeli poet who also died too young of lung cancer. It was found bookmarked by Eileen, probably in her last months of life. We spoke a bit about the poem, what it might have meant to Eileen. Kevin, Andy and Jenny were very emotional as they gently lifted Eileen’s scarf from the stone that Jenny had carefully designed. We chanted the traditional Mourner’s Kaddish, we watched Zev and Rutie race to the woods. Zev played his flute, Ruthie passed around rocks from Fire Island to be left on the stone. I was a stone, numb.
It was a hard year of loss and I am still feeling the weight of life without Eileen, without my mom.
It was good to be intimate for this moment.
I miss writing my blog posts to you, Eileen. Who’s to say they needed to end, right?