[originally posted June 10 2011, 7:28 AM]
Even in college, I didn't call home, or write, or travel home much. That seemed okay with everyone. Family farewells were short and cordially warm.
Today begins a string of farewells. Visitation will be a farewell from townspeople and cousins and their kids. I'm a part of the fringe of my parents' fabric of community. Having dinner in the local diners this week has given us a flavor of the rich support they have in St. Elmo.
Tomorrow, the funeral. Where the return to the earth is most tangible. Farewell to the birdsongs and sky.
Then Sunday morning. My brother, sister, and I will return to our homes, and my father will be alone without family there for the first time in 62 years.
He'll be rejoined by Stephanie, his caregiver who attached so quickly to dad and mom. My cousins will drop in. But most days I expect he'll feel a new emptiness.
And say a few more farewells.
To Iris.