Your cell phone is vibrating. Again. There are over a dozen unread and unanswered emails in your inbox all marked urgent. You try to ignore the unpaid pile of bills on your desk by focusing on a breaking news story, only to be distracted by the tiny ticker on the bottom. Your favorite vintage Tee you were planning on wearing is still dirty, there's a wail of an ambulance siren outside that wont quit, and as far as dinner's concerned? You're no closer to making it then you are winning that billion dollar lottery.
It's days like these that you just need a break from it all. I, of course, find my break in the mall, in a little place called, Origins. It's a store where one can find skin care products, candles, bath oils, and just about everything else you need to help you unwind for a relaxing afternoon. My choice of peace? The Peace of Mind™ gumballs. Filled with peppermint, basil, and eucalyptus, these tiny white gumballs not only help tense jaw muscles relax and unclench, they help soothe the band of tightness around your head as the pressure, tension and the weight of the world melt blissfully away.
And I knew that on a day like last Thursday I was going to need them.
It was the day before the funeral, and I went to the downtown flower shop to help my friend Madelaine arrange floral wreaths for her five-month-six-day old, kinda-sorta nephew. (I say "kinda-sorta" since it's kinda-sorta easier than saying "Madelaine's mother's boyfriend's daughter's baby." Yeah.) As I helped spray-paint the white carnations baby-blue, I realized that these flowers werent just for anyone. They were for somebody whose life was cut short. Way too short.
The very thought of the whole thing was depressing. We were going to bury a baby. And maybe it's just me, but I dont think people arent supposed to bury their babies. Babies are supposed to bury their parents after they have lived a long and fruitful life. It was heartbreaking, reading his tiny obituary, but it was even more heartbreaking seeing my friend arrange his baby Kermit doll and baby rattles on his wreath. A few times I could see Madelaine tear up, but each time she stopped, knowing that she needed to be strong for both herself and her family.
Friday morning, I attended the funeral of Heriberto Cota Cruz Jr. It was a small ceremony at Martinez Funeral Chapel, with close friends and family. And under the maroon flouresent lights and the larger than life painting of a sad Jesus, holding an antomically correct heart with a crown of thorns surrounding it, was a tiny powder blue casket. The kind of blue that made prom tuxes look tacky, but on a baby casket...somehow, the color was refined.
I, however, wasnt as refined. Under the blood red lights, my charcoal-grey, Ben Sherman shirt turned into a weird shade of lavendar-plum. My black square-toed shoes were pinching my toes. And my hair? Well...let's not even go there. So much for death with dignity. But as I approached the tiny casket, all my problems seemed to fade. My shirt seemed less colorful, my shoes pinched a whole lot less and my hair wasnt a big disaster as I thought it was. I had somehow found peace with my look.
And sitting on the front pew, Madelaine had found peace with Heriberto's (aka Squishy) passing.
MADELAINE: I dont know, David. It's weird. I feel like I should be more sad.
ME: Why?
MADELAINE: Cuz my Squishy died and all, and I'm not even crying as much as I thought I would. It's like...I know that that's not my Squishy up there. It doesnt even look like him.
ME: Oh, I know. They totally messed up his eyelashes. They're way too clumpy.
MADELAINE: Yeah. I know. They did a bad job. He doesnt look like I remember him. That's not my Squishy up there. My Squishy is in a better place. And I think, just by believing in that...
ME: ...it's why you're not sad.
Unlike the baby's mother, who was crying a never-ending flow of tears, Madelaine knew in her heart, that that body in the powder blue casket wasnt her Squishy, because her Squishy was in Heaven. By believing in that her Squishy was in a better place, Madelaine was able to find peace with his passing.
And I was able to find peace, with my issues of death. I realized, thanks to most of y'all's comments up in here, that death shouldnt be something to fear. Rather, it should be seen as an adventure and something to look foward to. And until that day comes, I should just relax and not even think about it and just live life.
As we said our goodbyes to Heriberto, Madelaine left him with one last prayer and I left him with one last Peace of Mind™ gumball.
It's days like these that you just need a break from it all. I, of course, find my break in the mall, in a little place called, Origins. It's a store where one can find skin care products, candles, bath oils, and just about everything else you need to help you unwind for a relaxing afternoon. My choice of peace? The Peace of Mind™ gumballs. Filled with peppermint, basil, and eucalyptus, these tiny white gumballs not only help tense jaw muscles relax and unclench, they help soothe the band of tightness around your head as the pressure, tension and the weight of the world melt blissfully away.
And I knew that on a day like last Thursday I was going to need them.
It was the day before the funeral, and I went to the downtown flower shop to help my friend Madelaine arrange floral wreaths for her five-month-six-day old, kinda-sorta nephew. (I say "kinda-sorta" since it's kinda-sorta easier than saying "Madelaine's mother's boyfriend's daughter's baby." Yeah.) As I helped spray-paint the white carnations baby-blue, I realized that these flowers werent just for anyone. They were for somebody whose life was cut short. Way too short.
The very thought of the whole thing was depressing. We were going to bury a baby. And maybe it's just me, but I dont think people arent supposed to bury their babies. Babies are supposed to bury their parents after they have lived a long and fruitful life. It was heartbreaking, reading his tiny obituary, but it was even more heartbreaking seeing my friend arrange his baby Kermit doll and baby rattles on his wreath. A few times I could see Madelaine tear up, but each time she stopped, knowing that she needed to be strong for both herself and her family.
Friday morning, I attended the funeral of Heriberto Cota Cruz Jr. It was a small ceremony at Martinez Funeral Chapel, with close friends and family. And under the maroon flouresent lights and the larger than life painting of a sad Jesus, holding an antomically correct heart with a crown of thorns surrounding it, was a tiny powder blue casket. The kind of blue that made prom tuxes look tacky, but on a baby casket...somehow, the color was refined.
I, however, wasnt as refined. Under the blood red lights, my charcoal-grey, Ben Sherman shirt turned into a weird shade of lavendar-plum. My black square-toed shoes were pinching my toes. And my hair? Well...let's not even go there. So much for death with dignity. But as I approached the tiny casket, all my problems seemed to fade. My shirt seemed less colorful, my shoes pinched a whole lot less and my hair wasnt a big disaster as I thought it was. I had somehow found peace with my look.
And sitting on the front pew, Madelaine had found peace with Heriberto's (aka Squishy) passing.
MADELAINE: I dont know, David. It's weird. I feel like I should be more sad.
ME: Why?
MADELAINE: Cuz my Squishy died and all, and I'm not even crying as much as I thought I would. It's like...I know that that's not my Squishy up there. It doesnt even look like him.
ME: Oh, I know. They totally messed up his eyelashes. They're way too clumpy.
MADELAINE: Yeah. I know. They did a bad job. He doesnt look like I remember him. That's not my Squishy up there. My Squishy is in a better place. And I think, just by believing in that...
ME: ...it's why you're not sad.
Unlike the baby's mother, who was crying a never-ending flow of tears, Madelaine knew in her heart, that that body in the powder blue casket wasnt her Squishy, because her Squishy was in Heaven. By believing in that her Squishy was in a better place, Madelaine was able to find peace with his passing.
And I was able to find peace, with my issues of death. I realized, thanks to most of y'all's comments up in here, that death shouldnt be something to fear. Rather, it should be seen as an adventure and something to look foward to. And until that day comes, I should just relax and not even think about it and just live life.
As we said our goodbyes to Heriberto, Madelaine left him with one last prayer and I left him with one last Peace of Mind™ gumball.
I shall call him Squishy...
True, he couldnt use the gum...
and he shall be mine...
and it probably would attract more bugs to his coffin...
and he shall be my Squishy.
but maybe, knowing that he had Peace of Mind with him, would give us all, peace in our mind that somewhere out there, Heriberto was looking down on us, smiling and enjoying his afterlife adventure.
Come on, Squishy! Come on, little Squishy!
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