Friends of the Richelieu. A river. A passion.

"Tout cedit pays est fort uny, remply de forests, vignes & noyers. Aucuns Chrestiens n'estoient encores parvenus jusques en cedit lieu, que nous, qui eusmes assez de peine à monter le riviere à la rame. " Samuel de Champlain

"All this region is very level and full of forests, vines and butternut trees. No Christian has ever visited this land and we had all the misery of the world trying to paddle the river upstream." Samuel de Champlain

Sunday, May 24, 2015

Honoring the dead

Yesterday afternoon, I went to reflect over my father's grave (he should be buried in the family plot, but I don't know), over my favorite aunt's grave, my grandparents' grave, my mother's grave, and over the hole they had just dug in the ground that was about to receive my ex father-in-law's body within the hour, and I could not think any further. I stood in front of the closed doors of the church where I was married, besides the hearse that had carried my ex father-in-law's body, but that was empty now and had its doors wide open, surrounded by empty cars belonging to a family that could, that would misunderstand my presence there.

And so when I heard a church door start to open, I turned around and walked away towards my home without looking back, hoping that the person would not recognize me and call out. And the person did not. And I walked along the river, the sun was shining on its surface and on me, the wind blowing in my face; the air smelled of fresh fish and clean water.

And I came back to my home, and my cats, and my flowers, content that I had done what I thought was right.

And if he could see me up there, or wherever, he would understand.

1 comment:

  1. J'ai aussi visité les tombes d'amis de mon père, d'anciens voisins, d'anciennes amies à moi, des parents de personnes avec qui j'ai été à l'école. Des hommes d'affaires de la région que j'ai connu, et des femmes qui sont décédées beaucoup trop jeunes. La vie nous glisse doucement entre les doigts...