one of my fraternity chapter brothers died on last Tuesday and his burial was Saturday. He was someone I knew by name but didn’t really know personally, but I wanted to pay my respects. He pledged the semester after I graduated. He died exactly one month after his 30th birthday.
On the way down to Charlotte I had given myself ample time to get there, but there was an accident or something that closed off I-85 and a few other delays that made me certain I wouldn’t get there in time and I considered turning around.
This was my first time performing our ritual and we got there at the aforementioned time in the emails that circulated this week and went over it. on the fly it was decided that we would sing our hymn around the casket. I wasn’t feeling that. I’m of the belief that I’d like to remember them as they were. But i didn’t think it was the right time to cause any dissent.
his mother was very accomodating to us, as we had the first three rows on the right side reserved. The church was packed and on the way in you could tell people were taking his death hard. Some of the brothers that were close to him took it really hard after we were seated and it started to affect me. When we started the ceremony I saw his “light” on a column next to his coffin, a personal and symbolic item for each of us. and on that level of fraternal bonding the reality and the finality of it hit me hard. we got through the ceremony and i made it a point not to stand too near the coffin. but when we sat down i ended up w/ the aisle seat and I had an onubstructed view. he looked the same, just asleep.
and weird thoughts ran through my mind, like who would coordinate my funeral, would the turnout be this good, would my choices for speakers be known, and i got maybe a good 30 years left – if that.
there were several visiting ministers who spoke, most of whom spoke about us not knowing when it’s our time but when our numner’s up, it’s up. that it’s always a tragedy when it’s a young person.
the main minister turned things around with his lighthearted delivery and everyone who spoke about him had touching and funny things to say. There was an elderly man in the pew behind us who sang like from his soul. his voice reverberated through us and I don’t know what the song was he was signing but most of the church joined in and it was very very uplifting. some old time negro spiritual deep south worshiping was going on.
afterwards we gathered outside and i spoke to people i recognized, we acknowledged it was good to see each other, despite the circumstances.
I ended up staying in Charlotte until dark, talking with frat around the kitchen table in white shirts and loosened ties about life, politics and the current generation of lost kids.
Brian R. Reese | August 27, 1975 – September 27, 2005
I would come to your funeral. It is hard to face mortality. Your own or anyone elses. Know that we all leave indelible marks on each other’s lives. We are never forgotten.
I am so sorry to hear of your loss. I can tell how deeply it affected you through the way you retold it. I love your tribute to your brother. I just wrote about how fleeting life is in my blog today. I guess with the change of seasons these thoughts are worth pondering.