Bit of a rant I guess.
Funerals are a big part of life back home, or at least I feel so. Maybe it is the high mortality rate, the violent crimes, road accidents, or the size of our families, friends, circles - that funerals make up such a regular part of life.
When my uncle died a few years ago, I wished, that I could, at the least, watch it on the internet, but it felt, at the time, sacrilegious to even ask my family to do that for me. Now with covid-19, many of the funerals back home are being broadcast on Facebook, or YouTube. It was how I was able to say goodbye to yet another uncle, and for that I am thankful. However since then, since last year December, I have watched more funerals than I care to mention.
Sometimes, like today, l feel like an intruder on other peoples grief.
Angles and views I would never see at the actual funeral I would attend, is now right there on my screen. Broken people, crying people, intimate close ups of their faces and words. While I sit almost 9000km's away, in my bed, watching on my cell phone.
And maybe it's because I am so far away that I can also see the bullshit.
The opportunistic who feed off the fear of death that fills a space. The people who scream and shout about hell to a group of grieving people. Who use it as a chance to list the many great qualities of the religious organisation they serve. Fancy suits saying words that lack empathy, compassion, true fucking understanding.
I was there, when they preached, paced and screamed, and God was not in their twisted words. I was here, on my balcony, and the wind blew across my tears and the Mother Moon lit the head of my partner on my breast, and I felt...God
My heart feels so heavy, my heart feels so angry.