I pose this question to you listener: can you appreciate an experience you've never experienced? And as you ponder this question, you will surely come to realize the answer lies in experiencing that attempt. It's a paradox where in which the act of answering the question creates the question in someone who has not yet answered it for themselves. So, how does one go about this answering that question? Through stories, that's how. Stories don't just tell of an experience they bring you into that experience, helping you appreciate something without ever being there. I hope that through this story, I can help you answer that question for your self listener.
The funeral home did a good job. My eyes wander from her beautifully adorned hat to her blushed cheeks..her pink lips it reminded me of the last time we had met, nothing but a distant memory now. She looked serene…as if with the slightest touch, she would wake up. That if I were to grab her hand right now, she would squeeze mine back. But she won't. This wasn't a sleep she could wake up from. I sit down…away from the casket. I don't know what to say I don't know what to feel. The eulogy starts now but I don't hear it. Stories of a woman I've never met, tears for a woman I would never know, all of it. Sequestered into a dull roar of meaningless noise. The church is small but it's tightly packed. They all mourn for the loss of different people; some mourn the loss of a friend others mourn the loss of a leader—the loss of a matriarch, a sister, a wife. My brothers mourn the loss of a mother. A question itches in the back of my mind as I watch my brothers. Their tears come easily. They do not struggle with it, they do not question it they merely express their grief. (with passion) Fools the lot of them. How can I say that I knew her, knew her enough to cry. Why should I cry? Why should I feel so distraught as to cry? I did not know this woman. I was not there when she was born. I was not there when she fell in love I was not there when she met these people who now cry before me. I was not there for those integral moments of the life we now mourn. I was not there! The question roars now as it eats me up inside(pause)(slowly with uncertainty). Can you appreciate an experience you've never had? As if in answer to my question, burning salty tears stream from my eyes. I try to wipe and blink them away, but it only hurts more.