Celebration of Paul's Life

You're ignoring me," Julia's voice assaulted my consciousness. "You know you are."

"I do and I am. Go away. I need my space," I said aloud and was grateful no one could hear me. Else I might appear befuddled. And I was alone. So alone on this day. For the crowd of two days ago was gone.

Persistence was needed for Julia is not easily put off. Finally she relented.

My house is small. How strange that sounds. My house. Just two and a half months ago it was our house. Paul's and mine. Now it's mine because Paul died after a two year battle with leukemia.

Two days ago we --my three children and I-- held a 'Celebration of Paul's Life'.

              Forty or so people we invited.
              Twenty five or so we expected would come.
              Forty five or more showed up.
              A tribute to Paul or me or both?
To whom matters little. It was not a lengthy program-- two pieces of music and five short passages selected from the booklet Paul lovingly and laboriously worked on the last years of his life. Sixteen pages entitled
                                       
                                         Uncommon Senses
                                              Aphorisms  
                                                Epigrams
                                                 Quotes
                                                     and
                                                  Poems

The small booklet includes bits and pieces of philosophy, poetry and witticisms, some original, others not.

We read his obituary:
           
             Nature whence he came has reclaimed his body and spirit
              A body nourished by vigorous exercise and healthy food
                     A spirit fed by passion, curiosity and principles
                       A need to live, to laugh, to love and play
                  A love of nature compelling him to salute the sun
                Revere the trees, bow to butterflies and laud the birds
        An addiction to the arts leaving his domed, mural walled folly
                                 His tiled towering obelisk
        His indomitable spirit and active body have returned to their
                                            proper place

We then spread his ashes around his folly and obelisk, the art works in the backyard. A sharing of cheese, crackers, grapes and wine followed.  I am sure Paul would have approved.  I suspect Julia would  approve. It was just that I did not feel like sharing the intimate moment with her.