The Title is ______.

time warp

this weekend was like being in a time warp; like diving into my former self. and, to be honest, it was a tight squeeze. it was a bizarrely awkward mix of past and present--two times overlapping amidst a very painful and very stark now.

the hours moved in slow motion. it felt like we were a part of some sort of eerie play; we, the unconscious marionettes moving in rhythm with one another. One by one, we filed into the church, giving each other nods of solemn recognition.

travis's body lay in the casket in the front of the sanctuary; a bleak backdrop for what would have otherwise been a joyful reunion of old friends. It all felt so...familiar. so fresh. and yet, i felt strangely distant from the faces i once knew so intimately.

we all exchanged kisses and laughs, stories and photos of children, and paused briefly in the natural conversation stills to grieve together. Words of remembering nurtured and healed while Travis's lifeless, waxen figure laid rest as a staid reminder of what had once been so very alive. We celebrated his life and ours, the joy and the sorrow.





I went to my first funeral when i was six years old. a friends grandfather died, and my parents took my older sister and I to the viewing. My sister made a point to avoid the casket, but i remember wanting to look, standing on tip-toes to peer into the old mans face.

Then when i was fourteen, my friend got sick and died within thirty-six hours. my family decided not to take me to the viewing because his face had been so distorted by the illness. they thought it would be too hard for me.


But i rather appreciate viewings because it gives me the chance to see that the alive-ness, the soul and essence of the person isn't there at all. It was remarkable to look at Travis's body--his face looked the same, but it was as though i had never seen it before. His hands, too. They looked totally foreign. Foreign, calm and perfectly centered.

And that isn't Travis. He's the most alive person i know. i suppose that's why it was oddly comforting. There is a natural sadness, but an underlying peace in knowing that Travis is with God.

It's always surprising that it takes a death to bring life so clearly into focus. But isn't that the good news? Jesus' death shook the foundations and opened the way to all life.

We are still in the Season of Easter, the season of resurrection and new life. And we still say, with gladness and real hope:

Alleluia. Christ is risen.
He is risen indeed. Alleluia.

posted by k.o. @ 9:39 AM