The Visitation

   Yesterday evening C and I attended a visitation/wake. We did not know the woman who had died. Her son and daughter-in-law are our neighbors, since we believe in mourning with those who mourn it seemed best that we present our condolences in person.
  We got dressed up and drove to the funeral home. The parking lot was packed. The woman who had died was the matriarch of a large close knit family. We expected a lot of cars. We found a place to park and went inside. It was bright and well lit. There were people standing in the large entryway. We saw one of our neighbors and went to her. I saw the stand with the guestbook and a place to leave cards. I signed the guestbook and gave Babette, our neighbor, a hug. She told us that her mother-in-law was a talented artist and that her works were displayed in the next room. She also pointed to her husband who was conversing with another man.
  We walked up to Grant and shook his hand. He was dressed in a dark suit with a coloured shirt and a pocket handkerchief. I had never seen him dressed up before. Usually we see him in a work shirt jeans and tennis shoes. C talked to him for a few minutes. The hum of voices in the room was so loud it was hard for me to make out what they were saying. A man walked up to grant to talk to him and we turned away. A small boy ran past us followed by his mother. The boy was Grant and Babette's grandson. We paused to talk to her for a minute. It looked like the little boy was going to be joined by a sibling in a few months. The boy started to throw his toy car against a door and we left his mother to deal with him.
   The room was large and bright. The walls were white and there was light coloured furniture. it was not dark and dreary. On the left side was a long table with a small box on it. The box had pictures on the woman who had died. She had been cremated. The was a small kneeler in front of the table for those that wanted to pray. The were colourful bouquets on the tables and on other tables around the room. We made our way to the far side of the room where there was a small video screen. Someone had done a video of the woman talking about her life and art. we watched it. Surrounding the tables were drawings, paintings and sketches she had done. She was very good. She had owned a couture bridal salon in the city for many years. A few dress sketches were on a table.
  We made our way around the room pausing at a large video screen showing more art. We looked at easels with collages of pictures on them. There were pictures of the woman when she was younger and as a bride. She was beautiful and aged well. It was clear from the pictures that she had lived a good life and was surrounded by a family that loved her dearly.  We looked through an album of pictures of her grandchildren. 
  We paused at the edge and looked at the people in the room. Everyone was chatting with someone or looking at the pictures and reminiscing. There were three people in their early 20s sitting on the couch focused intently on their phones paying no attention to what was going on around them. If you didn't know that there had been a death in the family, you might have mistaken this gathering for a reunion of some kind.
   We walked out the door. I inwardly smiled. To me, this is how it should be. Yes, it is an ending and she will be missed. However, she had lived a good many years and was fortunately healthy for much of it. I liked the fact that instead of tears and sadness her family had chosen to celebrate all she had done. It was a lovely was to celebrate an ending and a beginning.
   "Life is eternal; and love is immortal; and death is only a horizon; and a horizon is nothing save the limit of our sight." Rossiter Worthington Raymond.