Cacti
As was mentioned in an earlier posting, I lost my good friend Matt to AIDS last week. Saturday was the funeral and memorial service, so I spent the greater part of two hours inside a church. I can’t begin to convey how discomforting the confines of a church building make me. I simply do not belong in church. Period. But I was not at church to attend mass. I was there to pay honor and my respect to my late friend. That cause far outweighs my discomfort.
It was quite the depressing affair. After all, any time you sit in a roomful of tearful and mourning people, it’s hard. I sat in the pew and listened to various people in his life give speeches and their words on their fallen sibling and friend. They reminisced as best they could, and it wasn’t necessarily my loss that hurt – it was seeing the loss and pain in the family members that stood up there with their emotions on their sleeve that did me in. They had his picture adorning his urn, and as the memorial came to an end, they surrounded his remains with several dozen roses. I never knew red roses could sting so much.
Afterwards we all drove back to Matt’s mothers house and had a little celebration. The idea was not to have a party nor to pound brews one after another, more like a somber celebration where everyone had a couple glasses of wine, some excellent food – and shared hugs for dessert. It was nice.
I often wondered what my role was in all of this. I wondered how I could help, perhaps with my words or a card. I wondered what I could do for Matt’s mother, who unlike so many others, has the largest most giving heart that I have ever seen. They didn’t break the mold when they made her, they didn’t use one. See is limitless.
So I decided to buy her a cactus. Of all the millions of genus and species to choose from in the plant kingdom, Matt’s favorite was the cactus. I’m not sure why, but I now have an idea.
When I presented the beautiful cactus to her, I told her that I had bought it because it was her late son’s favorite, and because it would live on. Unlike a bouquet of lilies, or a basket arrangement of irises – the cactus would live on. You could put it in the hottest most extreme temperatures, and it would not die. Even if you didn’t give it water or fertilizer for a very long time, it would suffer through and carry on. It was a survivor, as was her son who battled AIDS for nearly 16 years. They were survivors.
And as I sit her on a cold and rainy autumn night, I know Matt is still surviving. Somewhere. Somehow. Just like that cactus that sits on the counter top of his kitchen overlooking all that he once saw. It will sit there and carrying on. As a cactus. As a plant. And as a reminder that life goes on. It doesn’t stop. It doesn’t slow down. It just keeps on going. So carry on my friend, wherever you are. I shall see you again. Somewhere. Somehow....
“Loss is only imaginary. Nothing in the universe disappears – It only changes shape.”