In Blue For You
Dressing for a funeral.
This morning I chose clothes from my closet to wear to the funeral of an old friend this week. The task should not have felt as daunting as it did since most of my wardrobe is black and it’s what I expect most people to be wearing. It’s what I typically feel most comfortable in – at funerals or not.
I held up sets to the mirror and paired different black pieces. I pulled out a few black dresses that would work as well - all socially acceptable for the service. None of them felt reflective of who I knew him to be though. Thirty years ago when we met, we were still kids in high school and had our entire lives ahead of us. He was funny and bright in spirit, long before the darkness of adulthood overtook him. Wearing all black feels too heavy this time.
When my son died, I couldn't bring myself to buy black clothing for his funeral. The few days between losing him and his burial was all a blur – then and even still now. I remember being at the mall with my kids and husband at the time, shopping for baby Declan’s service. Christmas was only a few days away, and the stores were jam packed. A salesperson approached me and offered a dressing room to try something on. I chose a winter white blouse. It was light, airy and silky. It had big bell sleeves which made it feel angelic; like him. When the clerk was cashing me out, she cheerfully asked if this was going to be worn at a special Holiday Party. Imagine the shift in her expression when I told her why I was buying it. I was not in the space to spare anyone’s emotions at the time.
Within the sea of people who came to Declan’s service, I remember noticing that everyone wore black that day. I found comfort in that as they were dressed in a way which reflected how they were feeling. The desperation and the anguish I experienced to remain connected to my son’s spirit would have me in nothing other than white though.
At funerals since Declan’s I’ve worn all black and it felt right, but I’ve chosen to wear an electric blue blouse this week. It’s vibrant like I knew my friend to be all those years ago, and the contrast with black pants feels balanced for this occasion.
Blue – just like the struggles he faced and the sadness I’m feeling for the life he could not bear to live.
Rest in peace, Scott. I’ll be the one in bright blue for you.
