Covid Life – Recluse, Re-Emergence and Ritual
…The day finally arrived this Memorial Day weekend when the four of us and Popo dared to venture out together to visit my father and brother in New York, the first time in over a year. It was cold, windy and wet, but my 87 year old mother determinedly walked to her husband’s gravesite and read the poem she wrote for him that’s etched on the tombstone. We lit incense, bowed in respect and ran back to the car as lightning and thunder reverberated through the skies. After all the sadness, loss and separation, we returned to each other through this family ritual, marking the passing as well as the continuation of our shared journey.
