That Awful Quiet Time

May 17, 1997 my father passed away and was buried 15 years ago today. Not very long before that — within about seven months, I guess — I had attended funerals for a grandmother, a couple kids from school, a neighbor, and a couple relatives of one of my sisters-in-law. Not long after that —about seven months, again — I attended my niece's funeral, another neighbor's, and someone that I'm afraid to say can't come to mind right now.

Those times were filled with an awful quiet for me. A time of ... well, empty.

Since then, I've been to a few more funerals — a teacher's, a friend's, another neighbor. Later next week I'll be going to one more. One of my mom's (I hate "step-mom" so I just say "mom") sisters died May 17, 2012. Yes, that date. I looked it up to be sure. Today her husband and seven boys are taking her to a crematorium. This is another awful quiet time as we wait for details of the arrangements of the whole-family service, feeling helpless with nothing to do.

And so it goes. Two of my current neighbors, a husband and wife, have had family at hand 24-7 for almost a week now and I suspect that soon there will be another set of funerals to attend. The quiet again.

It seems May is that sort of month. My friend Honour posted today about an awful quiet in her life, the passing of Kev Sweetwater a few days ago (Web). Yes, I knew Kev, but only in a tertiary fashion. I can't say we ever exchanged more than a few words — probably about bacon. But when my friends hurt, I hurt and I share that awful quiet.

I can't think about this sort of thing in an organized fashion. Dates slip from my mind and become aches prodded by subconscious reminders at the appointed times. It was probably my subconscious that prodded when the other day I was cajoled into applying for a parcel at SL9B. On the application I promised to create a version of the Memorial Park on the Isle of Lesbos to fit an exhibitor parcel, but I let it be known that I'd be more than happy to transport a full-sized copy to take many spaces at the celebration as a memorial to all our friends in Second Life. Perhaps it can bring a bit of peace to the awful quiet.