Carrying the body, from Church to Grave...

Holding your ancestors body with all of your strength connects you with the soil, your heritage, those who walked before you and their life.

The Familiar broken doll laying in the coffin was not my grandmother, but yet it was. Was she afraid? She had been praying to her Rosary like she did before going to sleep every night, but this was different. My mother would say she was "Working something out with God." 

She lay in the hospital bed, kept alive by machines, forcing air into her lungs and keeping her blood flowing. I massage her feet, she is warm, but not responsive. She is in and out of her body. It will not work for her, and she wants all the plastic and metal out of her face. I know, this is the end. I wanted to believe she would be back at home, talking about the Las Vegas weather and asking for me to bring her a shot of Macieira. I couldnt cry, but I was sad. I told myself I will not go to see her at the hospital like this, but I went anyway. I asked people to talk to her, while some whispered in her ear others asked her to get up, it is time to wake up!~ 

At her Vigil I stared at her corpse, like a child, hoping she would get up again. I knew in my heart she was not there. But I would see her walking in the distance as other family members. I kept expecting her to show up and I knew she would have loved this gathering.

I finally had a good night's sleep but I had a night full of Dreams. About my grandmother, about her being locked away in a box forever. An 81 year old doll kidnapped and hidden away, but it is not her. She is not a doll, she is not broken! She is pure Spirit, melting away all the darkness and hurt only leaving the good and joyful. And the box is now empty, I open it to find the light that fills it tells me she was not being kept for long. 

I am holding this empty box and struggling with the physical. Tears like holy water drop on it and it is swallowed by the Earth to be covered in flowers, and I step back. No one can see what I see. She removes her body like one takes off their old clothes to be donated. Her donation feeds the vines that grow near her grave. Like the place that she was born. Covered in wild vines, with so much green fed on flesh and tears. We hold your burden, your grandchildren and your great-grandchild lift your body up, with great reverence and sadness, we give it back to the earth.

 I light incense for you today, and sprinkle holy tears onto the earth in your memory.