The Fact Of A Body
I’ve been told to wear life like a loose fitting garment; a flowing white tailored button-down dress shirt three sizes too big allowing the fact of my body to move about freely, safely inside; yet eventually, I will slip from it and, it all, at the very, very, very end.
Her body is gone, Tim said. That is the weirdest part - the most abrupt mind-bending part - to him. She’s ash (as was her wish) and like that…
My mother in law died two weeks ago. I’d written about her final days here (my husband spending a month in Florida, bringing her home, pushing against the fears, anticipatory grief and denial of his siblings and at times his father, to bring his mom home - her only wish).
It took me a very long time to come to terms with the fact that once my father died and no longer took up space in tractor seats, recliners, golf carts, barstools, and church pews all over Grundy County bodies are husks. And, death is separating the wheat from the chaff. To get at the good stuff, you know, the soul the energy the spirit - whatever “it” is that made us love our loved ones so completely.
Keep reading with a 7-day free trial
Subscribe to Noheartland to keep reading this post and get 7 days of free access to the full post archives.