The Snowman's Hosanna

I am leaving my house at 6 in the morning, but I wanted to stop scurrying around and get down some things that have been rattling around in my head.

We've had more snow in the past week than in all of last winter, I think, and it was beautiful snow: lacy delicate flakes piling up on tree branches. When you look at the giant parking lot piles of snow it's hard to countenance the idea that God sees each snowflake's individual beauty, but I believe it is true. When I think about all the bodies piled up in all the graveyards around the world it is easy to lose sight of the fact that God looked at each individual and pronounced him (or her) beautiful and beloved, but I know it is true.

The snow is turning into slush now but I am remembering the flakes that fell on my coat sleeves and eyelashes, fragile and unrepeatable.

From the time we knew there would be a funeral we were thinking that Elwood would go and represent the family. We can't fly seven people to the West Coast, and leaving five kids requires a lot of logistical juggling. But my SIL asked me to come to the funeral and sing the Ave Maria that I sang at their wedding, and I said of course I would.

Well, first I said to myself, "There is no possible way I can get through the Ave Maria I sang at their wedding while I am standing in the room with his cancer-ridden remains. No possible way." And then I said to myself, "Jamie, if the woman who is marching forward into widowhood with two girls under two can do it this gracefully, then you had better believe you can get yourself together to honor her request." And then I said of course I would.

When my oldest son was weaning the hardest part was bedtime. He had always nursed before he fell asleep. Instead I rubbed his back and prayed the rosary, and the prayer morphed into a song -- a Latin version and an English version. My SIL asked me to sing it when they were married. I am remembering the comfort it brought my little boy as he learned to let go into sleep, hoping it can bring some consolation as we all let go of my BIL.

For Lent I wanted to pray compline every night and I've been pretty faithful to it. It's that "Lord, now you let your servant go in peace" bit that sticks in my throat a bit. It's so much more real right now that one day my soul and my body will be separated.

People have been so good and so generous. My mom cleared off her calendar to come stay with the kids. I have been thinking a thought I want to come back to, about how the awful bits of life bring out the best in the people around us -- how love becomes palpable in the middle of sadness.

The sight that sparked this post was a slowly melting snowman, his head sliding slowly back on his slushy shoulders. He was stable enough, with his tilting head and his upraised arms, that he looked to me like a person at prayer -- hands lifted and head thrown back, shouting hosanna to the pearl gray sky. And I thought, "I could look at that and think about how everything we make will fade and end. Or I could look at that and think, 'Frost and chill, bless the Lord.'"

I guess both those things are true.

Please keep praying.

Comments

[Celeste]

Jamie, that was just beautiful. I am so glad you are going to go and comfort the grieving with your voice. Wishing you peace with the journey, and comfort as you say goodbye to someone dear. ((((hugs))))

[MelanieB]

Oh Jamie, Prayers. I love the closing image of that snowman praying the canticle.

[Pippi]

They are all still in my thoughts as are you.

[Lilian]

I thought of you and your post all weekend long. I didn't get to comment when I first read it because I didn't quite know what to say to do it justice since it moved me so! I wish you could share the song with us someday.

I'm glad you went with your husband, I hope that the Lord gave you strength to sing the song and be a blessing in the life of your sister-in-law and her daughters. I hope that it was a beautiful moment in a sea of sadness. Thank you so much for taking the time from your busy moments packing to share this with us, together with the beautiful image of the praying snowman.

Thank you. For blogging, for being a blessing on so many people's lives. Travelling mercies for everyone as well.

[mandamum]

Jamie, I haven't commented on these posts yet because I don't really know what to say.... but I do want you to know that every time I read one, or think of you, I am praying for your BIL, SIL and their family, and for you and yours. Thank you for putting words to such hard things, so that I may ponder them as well away over here. And thank you for being an inspiration in your willingness to serve and love with your voice.