Yep. This is my 1,000th post. I've sort of been dreading it because there's part of me that feels like I should be doing something really significant and powerful with this post. But I just don't have it in me.
My uncle's funeral service was very nice. My aunt eulogized him in a way I'm sure that he would've appreciated (and probably blushed about because he was a humble dude). And it was great to see and hear his friends and talk about what a wonderfully warm and loving person he was. He was so genuinely nice and funny--just one of those people you wanted to be around. His smile lit up a room, and it was clear that he'd touched many people's lives through his friendship.
But there was the open casket. Why--WHY-- is this something that's done?! Especially when someone's body has been through an ordeal like his had. The body lying in that coffin looked NOTHING like the Richard I want to remember, and yet, now that I've seen that body with its made up stiffness, it's an image I won't be able to erase from my mind. And why do people feel compelled to talk about how "good" the body looks or what a "nice job" the funeral home did? It's a strange tradition that I find terribly creepy and simply do not understand.
However, having the casket open did allow me to slip a small rose quartz heart into Richard's left breast pocket prior to the funeral service. The rose quartz is the stone of "universal love". This heart was given to me by someone prior to my first trip to Russia to meet The Geej. I carried it with me to the orphanage in my pocket the first night I ever laid eyes on her. Then it came with me on my second trip to Russia and has accompanied me on many other journeys--short and long--when I thought I could use a little extra love and support. It only seemed appropriate that it should go with this extraordinarily loving man as he began his next journey into the mystic.