Shirley

Jessie's grandma died last night.

I don't talk about death on the Captain's Blog. It's not a part of my world. It's not what I think about. It's not what I deal with.

Today, I was shaken. We were shaken. Hard.

I had a big long post about how the day unfolded, but I deleted it. Words seemed garish and inconsiderate. As I was writing, I looked up at the picture of my own grandparents I have at the foot of my bed, their faces slowly fading into sepia, and in that long moment I got the image of us all as leaves on a great tree, some budding, others green in their prime, gathering light; and still others are browns and reds and yellows, slowly loosening their connections to the branch until one night, dreaming of sunlight, they drift down, away from the others, to the unknown ground below.

The viewing is Friday. The funeral is Saturday. The worst part is Jessie's sadness, repeated like a prayer through thick tears. "I'm so sad, I don't know what to do, I'm so sad," and I, powerless, can only cry along with her.

Goodbye, Shirley. We love you.