we buried my sister

My sweet sister Caren passed on, in those early evening hours on Sunday.  Caren's partner, Gabrielle, my daughter Becca, and my niece Keelie all were in attendance at her bedside, at her home. She died peacefully - on her daughter Keelie's birthday - waiting and wanting to celebrate as a mother, that important birth date of her only child.

As this was to be a "natural" burial (within 36 hours, no embalming and being buried on her neighbor's property) - I arrived in East Blue Hill, Maine in less than 24 hours.

My sister's kind friends (and there were many) like Richard and Veronica, who put me up in there guest room - and Veronica who offered to let me sleep with her own personal teddy bear - made me smile and helped with the tears.

Up early the next morning, I volunteered to help dig at the grave site just up the hill. And, I gathered as many shovels as possible for the attendees to fill the grave. At the top, in a cold drizzle, I found a young 'local' man,  J. D. "the stutterer" (the way he introduced himself) already near the needed six foot depth.  My job, as always told to me for years by my 'sis' the carpenter, "square it up - smooth it out - and make it beautiful".

My other job, to take a picture of J.D. - and J.D. to take a picture of me.

Caren and Gabrielle's many, many friends contributed to the occasion. Some built her a simple pine box - some decorated it. Some washed her hair and dressed her in red pajamas with socks, some came to help lay her out - and covered her out on the porch.  Pulling back that cover, I had my quiet time with her - held her hand and kissed and hugged her goodbye.

A cold and rainy day brought everyone out - her old, old friends - her ex-lovers, a smattering of  family and tearfully - the towns people. A quiet steel drum accompanied Caren up that long Clayfield Road. And those that walked behind, carried their own personal shovels.

Gabrielle remarkably read some Yiddish poems and sang a few Yiddish songs. And some 'hooped' and 'hollered' in celebration. Some were quiet and some were solemn.  Keelie, Caren's daughter smiled a lot in her own quiet way and was comforted by many. When I held her, she shivered from inside, from that cold grey sky.

The following day, I left Maine - when it started to snow - in an unusual soft way.