Nora

Today was to be a Saturday to sleep late, to catch up, and to clean up at the Ranch.
     Instead, the little boys gathered early for breakfast, sporting combed hair and
                  collared shirts.
     Instead, incense filled the air, rather than the familiar mop-cleaning solution.
     Instead, holy water puddled like potholes at our feet in the chapel.
     Instead, it was a morning of stories and song, of laughter and tears.

Last night, Nora* died. Nora — an 86 year-old long-time resident of the “Abuelo home” — succumbed to some combination of a fall, subdural hematoma and pneumonia. At her funeral today, her community put aside its plans, and united in recognition of the life of one of its own.

The bouquet that tenderly encircled Nora’s coffin was formed by hundreds of faces. Faces of the young, the old, of those who knew and loved Nora, and those who did not.

Each person had his chance to say goodbye, to take a look at, and to embrace the box that held Nora’s body. Each person had the chance to reflect on how their life and Nora’s connected. Each person could more clearly see themselves in this mysterious journey of life, and could gain a better understanding of where this road takes us.

Life is like this. It comes to us ready or not, bringing unforeseen detours, amid our pains and our joys. It comes to us through sights, sounds and smells.

If it is true that “God comes to you disguised as your life*,” then He has touched ours with Nora’s. May we all rejoice in this unwieldy gift of life.

Tomorrow, we will clean up.

*1 Name changed 

*2 Paula D’Arcy