The Funeral of my Grandmother

Happiness at a funeral is always a partial tragedy we gather together around a fire of memory to be warmed by the thoughts and cooled by our individual desires for that person. With only family it is full of cheer and patience. Waiting for the time; waiting for the crying.

My grandma the troll always laughing always farting oh it is good to know that i am not alone in this trip. We are what is good. By God do I smell?! Now the bigger family arrives bill is here and he wanders around and might even sit down for a tad.

Red and white sparkle the glowing room. The heat of so many bodies wandering to and fro talking and shaking. Talking and hugging. An orgy of smiles and partial contact one after another we go to pay our respects for the dead.We kneel, we stand, we are here to mourn, to grieve, to celebrate, and to offer the oh so much needed human contact of our friends and family. The fairies have no place to hide in this packed small room the walls a cage the windows and taunting dream of fresh air. The trolls wear their smiling tusks broad and eager to rip and new joke or retell one so old it has become funny again.

Purple breaks the slums gray and black. Purple hiding, purple loving, purple looking for her troll; her safety. Safety from the colossus that is a troll family from the social woes of the unknown. Just give a fairy a little boost and they fly and glow. Give them their wings and protect them from terrors and a fairy will love you forever.

The vibe has changed. The room feels like it has moved. The people are getting louder and louder competing for attention among the special few who should be accepting their grief their condolences their handshakes and hugs. More shakes more hugs OH but how the love flows pure and true. Two are now seeking... but seeking who? seeking me!? or perhaps who I was for I have changed. Now druidic and trolly. I smile and bare my tusks with a warm grin and a spark in my eye. Alive with friends I dance out the door and into the cool calming corridor. I notice each being waiting for their shake from the man of the hour the man all of this is really for... Frank my Grandpa :)

Grandma you have flown with the angels you have become one with God now bring your faith into all of us here; into us that still inhabit this sick yet ever adapting world. For you are god and we are people. We are coming god we are here to ease your loneliness.  One at time we go to you Grandma we go to you and come back to learn more to feel more and at last become more than what we can possibly imagine. We are people, we are emotion, we are a chemical brain and a complex mind. Blood and bone. Hope and faith. Pity and sorrow. While you are with God tell him of us here tell him to send the twins for this world needs balance and the silent prophets still wait. I will wait and sense and see heal and mend... LOVE AND FUCK. For what is always was, and what is will always become. Choose your path and follow it; for it leads to a place that is.

Love Nature.

Love Your-Self.

Love Others.

In whatever order your path determines.

To still we sit a hum of talking busy bodies. A gathering of golden hearts warmed by the death of a mastermind mother. Loving, warm, joyful, conscience, powerful, and buzzing with energy. She was and still is loved. Never alone now combined with the one surviving god. What a pompous name to name yourself after what you are. Although yes it did work out well for it.

More gather in the second round of peaceful grief and clasped hands. Smiling faces, on most faces, the grief is to much for some and the tusks vanish into a forlorn faces pulled down by gravity and the weight of what they have come to see. The falsest of all the smiles belongs to my Grandfather. A king among men yet as humble as the truest of Buddhist monks. A kind fellow with a winning wit and a delightful flame in his eyes. Never giving up, never faltering in his faith, always kind and patient loving and respectful.

Still waiting I sit in this chair cool air refreshes me from above by the glorious air conditioning we in the first world hold so dearly to our heart. So I wait for people that I know to share my grief with kind words and embracing hugs. From loved ones and to be loved ones over the loss of a loved one; we are all here.

Cry one single tear write so many pages. Grief and loss typically share one sweet nectar. A bittersweet nectar; this emotion created by the chemicals flooding our brains. Rambling and small talk fill the air, as it becomes thick with stories and laughter. Raving in this small coroner scribbling waiting for my friends. AhHA! they are here........................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................

HOLY SHIT! I AM WAY TO HIGH!! THIS IS NOT GOOD NOT TYPICAL THIS IS QUITE THE EVENT! 
                                                                    CALM DOWN~!!~>={       never!

~Dream~ Camping girls and boys we live some what the summer camp but does it send to the hard house to become to come with the grandma tethered humbled wives to send someone to god when they really are not ready. ~Dream~

Only family and caregivers are in the cheerful room, for it is almost done. The occasional laugh the subtle jab oh how trolls we are a mirthful lot. When will I find my fairy when will I become wholer. I am whole but i am alone in my hearts heart. To love another to feel her pressure again my chest her hot breath her cold hands tickling the nerves on my back. I will continue to do what I am, be happy and I will find you, so small almost invisible disappearing into thin air. Like my last love, gone into the winds a picture hosted here a post popping up there. I see and hear her still but she is gone from me and no longer does she carry that magical connection.

We are all here now loving and happily being one on one. We go to kneel we go to share our respect with our God.

If you don't want to rejoin the people then stay with God. But we will continue to do this until every part of ourselves has learned and felt what is needed.

The soul has become God the body feeds the earth the truth grows up from its roots absorbing and leeching Betty into nature. The worms bury into your skull but there is no scream you are past pain, past age, only your soul remain in our memories.

You have been deleted for the system erased from natures memory but not in our memories. You are replicated and shared time and time again replaying the same small fragmented moments in time until that to fades as we all fade, as nothing last forever. Nothing lasts forever.