Ashes to ashes...

"Dust thou art, and unto dust thou shalt return." (Genesis 3:19) "I will bring thee to ashes upon the Earth in the sight of all them that behold thee." (Ezekial 28:18)

Today, we laid dear Pepe to rest. I didn't expect to be so moved... I've been traumatized by death in my life - losing my father when I was 16 and then my aunt (his sister) just 2 years ago. I never knew Pepe on a personal level. I was never able to communicate more than a hug to him, because body language is universal. Pepe was Nico's grandfather. I was always shy around him - because the man would make eye contact and speak to me in French as if I could understand every word that he spoke. He never did remember that we needed translation!

I'm reeling inside at his sudden absence. The man was 85 years old. We arrived in France on Thursday and raced to his house to tidy his garden. As I trimmed hedges and raked leaves, I tried to come to terms with the fact that he would never care for his garden again. Our efforts weren't wasted. He leaves behind a sincere girlfriend who appreciated our hard work. I still found myself second guessing everything I did. Would this live up to Pepe's standards? Do you think he'd be upset if we cut this or trashed that?

I found myself lost in thought while studying his girlfriend's face. She, too, speaks only French. It's only through my English speaking family members that I'm allowed to catch a glimpse into who these people are/used to be. Even as I write this, a lump is lodged in my throat. Christiane! When the excitement of his passing, the funeral, the family... is over - what will her life be like? I found myself wondering if I'd even have the will to get out of bed in the morning if I didn't have my own Nico to share the rest of my life with. I'm truly saddened for her.

At the funeral this morning, my eyes drifted across the river of faces that occupied the small church in Pussay. I watched my mother-in-law. I'm so glad she kept herself collected because if I'd seen her cry I think my own seams would have burst. She was Pepe's only child. I was my father's only child. I know what it's like to go on... I'm so glad that Patricia was blessed to have Pepe all these years - to watch her children grow into adulthood, to meet his great-grandchildren. I quickly glanced at Baba and Constance. I knew if I was going to see tears, they'd be flowing from the eyes of those two! I did catch a quivering chin, and it was too much - I had to look away.

I stood at the back of the church, cradling Victoria and praying for her silence. This was Pepe's big day - I didn't want all eyes on us. I listened politely as the priest hailed Mary and all that religious stuff that happens at funerals. Of course, it was all in French - so I could only find comfort in the solemn, a capella hymns from the individuals at the front of the church. I closed my eyes and lost myself in the emotion, letting the voices echo across the walls and fill me from the inside, out.

Two very profound moments from today have managed to move me, tremendously. The first was in the church - when the priest carried the bucket of incense and circled the coffin. It was then that the sun peeked in through the stained glass windows, and this beautiful rainbow light illuminated all the smoke. I couldn't help but feel that this was the moment that Pepe transcended. I succeeded in choking back the tears! I don't know why I can't just let myself cry and feel these things... The second moment was in the cemetery... standing in silence as the men connected ropes to each corner of his coffin and proceeded to lower him into the ground. His new "home." The clouds covered the sky, it was cold... the cemetery was cold. I looked again at Christian - there's no garden here for her to tend... she's going home, alone.

Which brings us to now... funeral and reception are over. Family members have gone back to their homes. I'm sitting in Patricia's living room surrounding in life, and love. This room is filled with many fond memories of Pepe. Perhaps eternal life is the ability to live in such a way that you remain, even if you are gone?

with a baby Ava

we didn't need language... who couldn't love this man??

Pepe, Christiane & Ava

with baby Alex

with Alex, Fred & Nico

some of my favorite memories... in his garden!

How do you say cheese, in French?

with Ava

Pepe & Victoria

The Family - Top L-R: Corentin, Pepe, Fred, Alex, Patricia, Nicolas... Bottom L-R: Christiane, me, Ava, Barbara, Stevie, and Helene. (Hey, where's Constance?!)

Ashes to ashes... dust to dust... You will be missed, Pepe!

Thanks for loving our girls...