You may think it strange that today I would be thankful for farewells and funerals. I found it a little surprising myself.
Today my aunt was laid to rest at 96 years of age. My husband and I rose early this morning to make the almost 3 hour drive. As we drove, I thought of all the memories I had of her. She was a beautiful woman with dark curls, dark eyes and an infectious laugh. My mom and I used to go visit her on days when we got haircuts because they lived close to the salon where we went. My neck was always red and my nose itchy from the hairs that fell as I got my pixie cut. My aunt would put talcum powder on my neck and somehow knew that the perfect solution to an itchy nose was a snack. Her house almost always smelled of fresh cut flowers that were prominently displayed in the living room. Today I learned that her neighbor worked for a florist and kept her in abundant supply. That spoke to me of what kind of person she had been. My favorite thing about visiting was when she would play the piano. She could really play a piano and my love of music made visiting her always a delight. Perhaps she partially inspired me to learn to play myself although I will never command a piano like she did.
My cousin, her son, is enough years older than me that I always thought he was a grown up so we weren't close growing up, but when I was around him, he was always warmly welcoming and kind and made me feel like the most important person in the room. I felt that again today when I walked into the funeral home and as I observed his interactions, I realized that he makes everyone feel that way. And when he hugged me, it just felt like an I'm-so-glad-we're-family kind of hug even though I hadn't seen him for over 2 years. And his wife, who I always thought was one of the most kind and beautiful women I ever knew was so gracious to us, taking time to "catch up" during the meal after the service, even after my uncle and cousin had left. That was a blessing.
We attend funerals to let those left behind know that we care, that the person they lost was important to us and had an impact on our lives. I've buried two of my immediate family in the last 3 years and it seemed to me that every person that came to say goodbye also helped to lighten the load of grief, if just for a few moments. That's one reason that I felt so compelled to go today. I pray that my presence there helped to lighten the load, if just for a brief second.
What I wasn't expecting was what I received by attending. When I saw my uncle, I saw my mother's eyes again and for a brief moment she felt very near even though she's been gone almost 20 years. My cousin looks strikingly like my brother, who passed way sooner than he should have, and when he hugged me, he held me tight just like my brother did the last time I saw him. All of these things seemed to fill in the empty years between today and when I lost them and brought them close again, if just for a little while.
The minister soberly reminded us of the importance of knowing God in this life and the reality of not knowing him in eternity. I appreciated that so much. More and more I see the fragility of life as people that I know are passing from this world to the next. We really don't know what tomorrow holds, but if we know who holds tomorrow, then we can live in peace and anticipate eternity with joy.
As I talked with my uncle we spoke of the scripture that reminds us that those of us who know the Lord do not mourn as the world mourns because we know that the death of a believer is more of a "see you later", than a goodbye. And for a moment I saw that familiar flicker in his eye as he assured me that his wife was in a better place and his trust was in the Lord.
So though today was sad and death causes us to mourn the way that life used to be, we know that there is a time to be born and there is a time to die. And today, a life well lived in-between was celebrated. Our loss is her victory. And that is reason to be thankful.
Today my aunt was laid to rest at 96 years of age. My husband and I rose early this morning to make the almost 3 hour drive. As we drove, I thought of all the memories I had of her. She was a beautiful woman with dark curls, dark eyes and an infectious laugh. My mom and I used to go visit her on days when we got haircuts because they lived close to the salon where we went. My neck was always red and my nose itchy from the hairs that fell as I got my pixie cut. My aunt would put talcum powder on my neck and somehow knew that the perfect solution to an itchy nose was a snack. Her house almost always smelled of fresh cut flowers that were prominently displayed in the living room. Today I learned that her neighbor worked for a florist and kept her in abundant supply. That spoke to me of what kind of person she had been. My favorite thing about visiting was when she would play the piano. She could really play a piano and my love of music made visiting her always a delight. Perhaps she partially inspired me to learn to play myself although I will never command a piano like she did.
My cousin, her son, is enough years older than me that I always thought he was a grown up so we weren't close growing up, but when I was around him, he was always warmly welcoming and kind and made me feel like the most important person in the room. I felt that again today when I walked into the funeral home and as I observed his interactions, I realized that he makes everyone feel that way. And when he hugged me, it just felt like an I'm-so-glad-we're-family kind of hug even though I hadn't seen him for over 2 years. And his wife, who I always thought was one of the most kind and beautiful women I ever knew was so gracious to us, taking time to "catch up" during the meal after the service, even after my uncle and cousin had left. That was a blessing.
We attend funerals to let those left behind know that we care, that the person they lost was important to us and had an impact on our lives. I've buried two of my immediate family in the last 3 years and it seemed to me that every person that came to say goodbye also helped to lighten the load of grief, if just for a few moments. That's one reason that I felt so compelled to go today. I pray that my presence there helped to lighten the load, if just for a brief second.
What I wasn't expecting was what I received by attending. When I saw my uncle, I saw my mother's eyes again and for a brief moment she felt very near even though she's been gone almost 20 years. My cousin looks strikingly like my brother, who passed way sooner than he should have, and when he hugged me, he held me tight just like my brother did the last time I saw him. All of these things seemed to fill in the empty years between today and when I lost them and brought them close again, if just for a little while.
The minister soberly reminded us of the importance of knowing God in this life and the reality of not knowing him in eternity. I appreciated that so much. More and more I see the fragility of life as people that I know are passing from this world to the next. We really don't know what tomorrow holds, but if we know who holds tomorrow, then we can live in peace and anticipate eternity with joy.
As I talked with my uncle we spoke of the scripture that reminds us that those of us who know the Lord do not mourn as the world mourns because we know that the death of a believer is more of a "see you later", than a goodbye. And for a moment I saw that familiar flicker in his eye as he assured me that his wife was in a better place and his trust was in the Lord.
So though today was sad and death causes us to mourn the way that life used to be, we know that there is a time to be born and there is a time to die. And today, a life well lived in-between was celebrated. Our loss is her victory. And that is reason to be thankful.
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