Carrying Dorthy and Wendy in My Heart

Last week I found out that candles can carry more than light. O.K. so candles are used by the Catholics, the Buddhists, the New Age movement and more. Candles lend themselves to something deeper under the surface. For me the flickering candle commemorated my grief. The flame stood solemnly in a space, seeming to somehow mark a place and time and capture my grief. I was in a meeting and we had to move on eventually and speak of other things. Yet, a part of me stayed at the candle sitting beside it with head bowed. The candle commemorated and marked my loss, it testified somehow to the grief and the loss of my two friends. I was able to function and be engaged in other things without the grief raging beneath the surface threatening to break through. When you lose someone, it feels like life should standstill for just an hour or maybe less. Life in America demands that you continue on and fulfill your obligations when all you want to do inside is fall to your knees and wail until you have no more voice left. The candle somehow stands in solemn memory and stops time. A part of me sits at the candle and can grieve while the rest of me is able to fulfill my dorky obligations and write a paper on the latest religion. Normally, I would be interested in these things but in the face of death none of it seems to matter much. The candle will burn for now.