Grieving: A rope ritual
It’s possible to grieve for someone before they have died. Waves of anger, sadness, and disbelief washed over me out of the blue on a regular winter day while running errands in the city. I have stopped by the drug store for some rice crackers and shampoo, and as I pack up my purchases, I spot a figure on the ground by the shopping carts. A frail old woman has fallen while trying to put the deposit coin into the slot on the handle; the cart — which she had hoped would steady her — had not.
She keeps repeating, “My feet are like rubber, they just gave out from under me.”
I crouch beside her, “are you injured?” and she adds, “I fell slowly, gently.”
Her eyes are wide, white with cataracts, and yet glistening with tears. Her white hair is still neatly arranged around her head and hasn’t been as disturbed as her dignity by this sudden encounter with gravity. I see my mother speaking to me, telling me she is fine — she wants to keep shopping.
My own mother is alive and well an ocean away, but I fear she too will fall while shopping or taking out the trash on a cold spring day, and then I will get the call that those of us who have made lives far away from our families dread, with increasing intensity with every passing year.
The same evening in late January, I headed off into the cold to the shibari rope…
