Sunday, May 18, 2008
Today the hospital where Mira died held a memorial service for the families of all the people who died "in their care." during the last six months. Ruth and Chris, our two oldest friend couples, and I attended for Mira. I was touched by the comfort of really old strong friendships - touched by how thoroughly my old friends love and are loved by my daughter and her husband, surprised by my own tears for the possibility that didn't make it to fruition in Mira. I was surprised and moved that Ruth asked me to got to the front and light the memorial candle for Mira on the family's behalf - speaking her name to the room was hard and sweet - strange to speak it to others and never to see her face or call her by her name to her face. I was surprises that we, normally a reserved group, were able to hug and cry and cry and hug - to hold tightly onto each other - to cry to the point of needing tissues. I'm not a crier, even when I'm really hurting, and especially not a public crier, but it felt right to cry today. I've had such an urge to rock Ruth in my arms since Mira died, and I gave into that urge for a minute in the chapel and she let me. I just wish I could keep my children and their children safe for ever. And I know that is utterly impossible and all we can do is hang in with and onto each other. It was good to be able to do that today in a formalized way.