Wednesday, September 7, 2011

black... or charcoal... or navy...

Whenever I wear clothing to a funeral it always becomes completely marked by the event.  I do mean completely... a hanging instant association with sitting in a hard pew, or standing still in a cemetery while your heels are sinking into the earth, or many tears.

I just recently donated a dark blue and black kimono-esque top that I wore to my grandmother's funeral sophomore year of high school.  I remember coming home from dance, and my mom sitting me down in our living room to tell me that Adie had a stroke and would never wake up from it.  I remember staring as intently as I could at the cover of the TIME magazine on our coffee table so I wouldn't explode with questions and tears- it was the issue in memoriam of the Columbia space shuttle, which disintegrated when it tried to re-enter earth.  On our drive up to Maine we stopped at Macys and I picked out the top thinking it was really quite awesome and I'd love to wear it again and again once life returned to normal, but that was never the case.  There were many instances where I eyed it, hanging in my closet among other dressier tops, thinking how cute it was... but I could never really walk out the door wearing it.

A year-plus ago I went to Russell's grandfather's funeral.  With no notice I grabbed the only black dress in my closet that I was in the mood to wear.  It had some abstract polka dots, and was cut in an almost 40s, bordering on pin-up, style and it was stretchy and fun and I had thrown it on countless times.  As I write this blog entry I now realize that I haven't worn it since that day, though I don't think it is as intensely/emotionally connected to a death as the above top.

Currently, I find myself waiting out the week- waiting for the inevitable phone call from my mom to let me know that my grampa has passed.  Maybe it's shallow, but I find myself considering what the heck I am going to wear.  I have so much black, charcoal grey, navy blue etc., but what will become the new marked item, or, do you instead dress to memorialize someone through what you wear?  Where do the considerations fall?  I guess many people would put their efforts into grieving and just showing up to the designated place at the right time, but perhaps our funeral attire, or at least my funeral attire, deserves more thought.