The Best Seat
Today’s blog is a personal, semi-poetic reflection on grief for the Undoing Toxic Blog.
Best seat in the house.
What’s the best seat?
It depends on the occasion and where you are. I want to see everything. No one and no thing in my way.
Don’t wear a bun. People might not be able to see past you. Stretch and reach around. It’s uncomfortable. Not at ease.
I want the best seat in the house. Floor seats, orchestra seats, courtside, near the field at Yankee Stadium, or venue of your choice. The best seats cost a lot. Box seats. Front row seats. How about a view? There may be a tall man or woman in front of me. Lift me up, please. Like a baby. A toddler. A child. Put me on your shoulders. At this big age? You’re too heavy.
Buy an elevated seat. Okay box office, Ticketmaster, give me the balcony, the mezzanine. The midsection, though. I still need the best seat.
No one in my way and now I’m looking down. Look at those ants, I mean people. I could have been on the floor with them, in the pit, but I am up now.
This is the best seat in the house.
What’s wrong with the side? Well, at the side, I see the sides of faces. And maybe there’s a column in the way.
Please remember, I want the best seat .
What about a mother with a crying child? Put them at the end by the door. When the child is in consolable, and easy escape makes it the best seat.
How about church? Sit me in the front. No heads, no things. Because in the front at church, I am closer to God. That’s the best seat. I want to see what everyone has on, top to bottom. I want to see it all without a screen, because when I get to be front and center, that is the best seat.
Let me ask you, is there ever a time that you don’t want the best seat? For me, it was Saturday. At funerals, believe me, you don’t want the best seat. The front is for family, the perceived closest in relation to the dearly beloved, laying up ahead, or in an urn.
It depends what you prefer, practice, and believe.
“God, please!” A simple prayer. Today, I do not want the best seat.
Actually, if I had no seat, no thing, no body, or no business here, I would not be worried about “no seat.”
Front and center for you. Today. Your family has been picked and plucked to mourn and grieve. If you are right at the casket, starting the row, you are mom, dad, or maybe the husband, wife, or partner, sibling, or child of who lies up ahead. Best seat in the house? No, the worst. Hurts and feels like hell. Worst than the cheapest liquor on an empty stomach.
The best seat in the house today has special exception. “Stand if you want to, sit if you want to.”
As a kid, in church on a regular day, you learn that’s a no-no. Stand to sing. Stand for the reading of God’s word. Stand for indicated prayers. No exception.
But today, this day, it’s different. You have the best worst seat in the house. Put me in the back, or outside, or in the parking lot. I want no business here. This is not where I want the best seat in the house. On display, to be seen, in color, in black, and in white, close to my departed loved one. In grief. The best seat costs a lot.
Rest in Peace to my brother and those who have gone before us who may have come to mind while reading. You are dearly missed.
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