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eden's weblog
Monday Dec 09, 2002
Animate and Inanimate
I didn’t know John that well. Still, there he lay in quiet repose as if he were merely asleep in the casket. His hair was neatly combed back and he wore a suit. His body was there on view, but where did his life go?
My mother knew John when he had lived near her in one of the condominiums with his lady friend. He was good-natured. They had moved about five years back to some isolated part of the state. A phone call from the lady friend: John had apparently died of a heart attack.
It is bitter cold outside as I drive my mother and myself to the funeral parlour, an old but well-cared for home.
There were about twenty-five people in the parlour. I could see John in the open casket in the front of the room. He would be cremated later. Bob Dylan was singing and screeching a tune from his Blonde on Blonde album. My mother was shaky and, after giving our condolences to the lady friend, we sat down to wait for the service.
