THE LUNAR REPORT - "JULIA" December 29, 2009
My cousin, Julia, died in her sleep Sunday morning. A year and a couple of weeks ago, her Mom was buried in Snow Camp, NC. Julia and her Mom were very close. Christmas is all about life in the dead of winter. I guess that’s why death is so hard to bear at this time of year.
Julia was a beautiful woman. Physically. Spiritually, she always seemed to me to be just as beautiful. Julia kept to herself. But the times I was with her, she was full of life and full of smiles and laughter. Her only real fault, in my eyes, was that she didn’t share her spirit, her beauty, her self as much as we needed her to. We need people like Julia.
Julia was one of sixteen first cousins on my Mom’s side. She is, I think, the third oldest. She is the first adult cousin on my Mom’s side to leave us.
It is so easy for us to withdraw. It’s so much easier to keep ourselves to ourselves. No one bothers you. No one that you can hear condemns you. No one that you can see criticizes you. One can easily make the cold dark world disappear behind our cold dark curtains. It warms us. It embraces us. It keeps us safe in a world that we create for our survival.
I know this very well. This was my world for a long, long time. Many in my family choose to pull the curtains. Many of my friends make the very same choice. It is so damned comfortable.
The thing is, we never – ever – really understand, or care for that matter, how those outside our curtains view us. We never understand how any other human can get anything from what we have to offer. It’s like the old Woody Allen line, “Why would I want to belong to a club that would have me as a member?” People like us – well we wouldn’t.
We have lost someone beautiful. Someone special. That is a terrible shame. Want to know what is just as terrible? That from this day forward, many of us will still choose to hide our extraordinary beauty from those who need it most – all of us.
We love you, Julia. We always did. All of us who knew you.
Julia was a beautiful woman. Physically. Spiritually, she always seemed to me to be just as beautiful. Julia kept to herself. But the times I was with her, she was full of life and full of smiles and laughter. Her only real fault, in my eyes, was that she didn’t share her spirit, her beauty, her self as much as we needed her to. We need people like Julia.
Julia was one of sixteen first cousins on my Mom’s side. She is, I think, the third oldest. She is the first adult cousin on my Mom’s side to leave us.
It is so easy for us to withdraw. It’s so much easier to keep ourselves to ourselves. No one bothers you. No one that you can hear condemns you. No one that you can see criticizes you. One can easily make the cold dark world disappear behind our cold dark curtains. It warms us. It embraces us. It keeps us safe in a world that we create for our survival.
I know this very well. This was my world for a long, long time. Many in my family choose to pull the curtains. Many of my friends make the very same choice. It is so damned comfortable.
The thing is, we never – ever – really understand, or care for that matter, how those outside our curtains view us. We never understand how any other human can get anything from what we have to offer. It’s like the old Woody Allen line, “Why would I want to belong to a club that would have me as a member?” People like us – well we wouldn’t.
We have lost someone beautiful. Someone special. That is a terrible shame. Want to know what is just as terrible? That from this day forward, many of us will still choose to hide our extraordinary beauty from those who need it most – all of us.
We love you, Julia. We always did. All of us who knew you.
Please visit the sites of some of my friends.
Comments