FRAGRANCE IN THE ROOM
It isn’t rare that I see the fleeting movement, like a soft brushstroke in the corner of my eye. They are here with us, the ones nested in our hearts and dancing in Heaven.
_____________________________
It’s not something seen but more the essence of it permeating the room. It’s impossible to tease out whether the experience of someone passed is the longing of the heart or a presence impossible to define.
I do know with certainty that when I depart, there amongst the living, little pieces of me will dwell—
This is why I tend to the hard and soft surfaces, why I fluff the pillows, nurture the garden, and rearrange the chairs.
In the hours before sunrise, in that space between another reality and mine, I lay with the warm of down cuddled around me and I walk through my list of readying that accompanies hosting a celebration of life. This one, the anticipated arrival of a baby boy.
There are few things that come close to the delight of both imagining and fulfilling the outpouring of the heart made concrete and real—
Vintage French plates staked and gleaming,
Block-print napkins nested in a basket,
Flowers cut and arranged in a vase.
TO DEFINE THESE AS MERELY “THINGS,” WOULD BE TO DISMISS THE HAND THAT WASHED THE DISH, FOLDED THE NAPKIN, CUT THE STEM.
I am in these things, this overflow of cells one body can’t contain. Come near and you will feel the vibration of a tenderness infused in each detail.
It is likely the environments I cultivate and treasure will outlast me, lingering as tangible evidence that I once was here. Some not too distant day, the ones who love me will gather in the spaces once nurtured into being and they will say, “This is what my mama did.”
To me, this work is not something “done” but a part of me as much as smile or skin.
The end of us should not be measured by how far we can reach, but in the depth and breadth of the love we infuse in what we touch.
I DO NOT TAKE LIGHTLY THE FRAGRANCE I WILL LEAVE. THOSE WHO LOVE ME MAY SOMEDAY BE SIPPING MORNING COFFEE AND FEEL ME THERE. THE VEIL IS THIN, THE LINE BETWEEN HERE AND THERE NEARLY NONEXISTENT IF WE ARE PRESENT AND AWARE. HEAVEN IS NOT SOME FARAWAY PLACE BUT THE SOUL SPRINKLING LITTLE PIECES OF ITSELF EVERYWHERE.
Come Saturday, just when you find a moment to read this, nestled in your favorite chair, guests will gather in this kitchen strewn with paper flowers and balloons and we will usher a little boy into our presence even while he is nestled in his womb.
Our lives have potential to bring sanctuary to everything we touch.
I will never get over that our Creator delights in beauty for its own sake.
Let bringing beauty be my mission on earth. OUR mission on earth.
Until we become the soft movement in the corner of our loved ones’ eyes.
NOTES:
My pastor once told me that our loved ones in Heaven petition the Lord on behalf of our needs. If you explore the synonyms of the word “petition” you might agree with me that your favorites are implore, beseech, plea.
This notion implies that those we’ve lost are not really absent at all but intimately, even passionately involved in our lives.
If we hold a view of Heaven as being someplace, “out there” it’s impossible to grasp the concept that they are actually very near. In my mind, and experience, more near then we are willing to admit.
It’s glorious to imagine that Heaven is as close as breath.
In my mind, we should be living the idea of it every day.
Today, my vision of it looks like glittered, “It’s A Boy” signs and colorful pendants and ribbons ushering the way.
The “readying” is not busy work. It’s the need in us to leave our thumbprint, to etch this world with the memory of us, to allow all of what is within us to come out to play.
Congratulations Dane and Kristen. We can’t wait to meet you, Baby Boy Snyder.