TWINKLE TWINKLE LITTLE EYE

TWINKLE TWINKLE LITTLE EYE
By: Darrelyn L. Tutt

Today is Dawn's funeral.
The church will be full to bursting with family, friends, co-workers, and neighbors present.
Some will openly grieve ...
tears will cascade down,
cooned eyes will dribble mascara,
Kleen-ex will be kindly extended,
and halting voices will grope for the right words.
Others will appear stoic, reserved,
quiet and reticent,
wondering, wandering,
privately gathering thoughts while absorbed in photos in the foyer or floral arrangements near the front.
I will likely be in the latter.
Contemplative. Quiet. Reserved. Observant.
Grief is a personal matter with no two people being alike.
There's no right or wrong,
good or bad,
correct or incorrect grieving methods or posturing formulas.
Grief is what it is ... and needs to be respected in whatever form it takes.
------
 Dawn and I were not what you'd call close;
our intersections were few and far-between, intersecting us at intermittant and sporadic family gatherings.
But a certain comfort level was ours and gently assumed.
Was it our opposites that softened and attracted?
I don't know ...
One distinct and special memory keeps cropping up:
I recall a necessary "dress" shopping trip taken with her in which our differences were notably and visibly observed. She mumbled and grumbled the entire short hour about the "hateful" shopping experience lamenting over her "too stout" body (her verbal coinage), while I had the time of my life and tried on everything in sight.
She stuck her tongue out at me on the way back out to the car.
I held up my purchases and stuck my tongue out back.
We laughed ...
Dawn was practical where I was girly.
She was level-headed where I was unpredictable.
She was steady where I was spontaneous.
She was calm where I was driven.
And yet ...
she never failed to have a twinkle blow up in her eye on account of my presence and I never failed to disappoint.
She sought me out and I loved it!
Dawn was everything that I am not and maybe that's what I loved about her.
She bore and wore the same traits so familiar to me in my husband Scot.
The two of them meld as one in disposition and composition,
inside of "my" mind.
-----
Today, the privilege of sharing sibling recordings and remembrances has been given Scot and I. I'll take my place beside him and, in doing so, feel the presence of Dawn.
 Twinkle, twinkle little eye,
Joined with God and in the sky ...
forever.
------