Bubbles Always Pop, pg. 10.
Deciding it probably would be best not to stay too long, I began taking pictures of his place, trying to fit as much detail into each shot. When I got towards the back of the bus to get a photo looking towards the front of his property, I took note of something which struck me as rather peculiar. Directly behind the bus, there were several empty bottles of Diet 7UP. I thought it odd because I don't remember ever having known Ed to consume soft drinks. To this day, I have never figured out why he would have had so many of them. There must have been over fifty of the empty containers lying in one spot. Satisfied I had enough pictures of his home, I left. This year will mark the fifth anniversary of Ed's passing. I have not been back to the location of his home since taking the photographs.
Not being fond of funerals, I was unusually anxious to know where and when a service would be held for Ed. I learned his body had already been cremated that weekend, and his ashes spread at the home he loved so dearly. Yet there was to be a memorial gathering for Ed in one of the local parks on the following Monday evening.
I was aware of the park since it was directly across from a business I had delivered to for my employer, but I had never actually been in it. It was a pretty small park even for the size of the community which, while not highly populated, is very spread out. The entrance into the park was only about a car and a half in width, and the park itself appeared to be about seventy yards long and about forty yards wide. Parking was scarce for there were already several cars parked when we arrived. While SJ and I walked towards a gathering of people at the very end of the park, I happened to look off to my right and noticed there was a man engaged in the exercise of Tai Chi on a basketball court located on a lower level of the park. While I doubt the gentleman was aware of what the purpose was for the gathering above and beyond his line of sight, his presence seemed to give the solemnness of the occasion and air of tranquility.
I had never been to the type of memorial service of which SJ and I were about to add to the number gathered in memory of Ed. We walked to within sight and sound of a woman standing atop a picnic table talking about Ed, but stood back a little from the rest of the body. My initial attention focused on the faces which composed the group. I saw a few people I recognized only because they too, like Ed, had let their opinions be known through the local newspaper and various counter groups opposed to the direction the city planners were taking the community, but none of those in attendance had I ever met personally. There was only one person there who I had seen frequently simply because she was the sister-in-law of the fellow who owned the property where Ed lived when I first made his acquaintance. All the others, about thirty in number, were unfamiliar to me.
I wondered if we all hadn't had something strangely in common other than the fact we knew Ed personally. Aside from those of an outspoken nature, was it possible many of the same traits we found so agreeable in Ed were not also present to an extent in the rest of us? I was fairly sure, with the exception of Ed's brother and sisters, all the rest in attendance were residents of the community, yet I couldn't remember ever having taken notice of them. For a community of approximately two thousand, how was it Ed had managed to meet so many people, people who obviously thought well enough of him to attend a gathering in his memory, and yet none of them I recognized? Or was I simply one of the few whose involvement in the community at large was kept to a minimum. Still, there didn't seem to be any cohesiveness to those gathered together other than the fact they knew Ed. I couldn't help but wonder just how much of a hole was created in the lives of those in attendance because of Ed's passing.
The person on the picnic table I figure out was one of Ed's sisters when she made reference to two other unknown faces in a small group and referred to Ed as her brother. I felt sorry for the position she was put in since it would have seemed someone else could have surely taken charge without having to let a sister, very obviously grief stricken, be the focus upon which the group directed its attention. And yet perhaps it was the lack of cohesiveness of the group which made any other single person an improbability. I didn't catch much of what Ed's sister said, but she eventually asked those in attendance to form a circle and tell of their most memorable story regarding Ed. I doubted the only one I could think of at the time would have been appropriate considering the nature of the gathering, so SJ and I simply stood and listened. |
