01 October 2006

Disposable Black Tie

This afternoon I bought a black tie to bury my grandfather in. He died in his bed while I was standing on a rooftop in northern Virginia drinking birthday-party drinks and looking at the monuments. My lack of propriety shames me.

I bought the tie that will carry his casket, lower him into the ground and cover him with dirt. From ashes to ashes. And I will have lost my grandpa. I will take this tie off, and I will burn it. I will take away from this whom he was before he was a corpse. I will burn that tie in the evening; like when we used to stand and look over the flat plain streaking away, uninterrupted by trees, to see the sun setting. Dust was soft beneath boots, the flaming sky a rare pause in the work to be done. My tie will burn and release my grandpa from this mourning that we must participate in, so that he can fly away to be that flaming sun announcing rest and dinner, his favorite things.

Wish me luck.


Coach said...

[reachig for my zoloft]

Hope you feel better soon.

Anonymous said...