Further thoughts

I wonder about memorial services, funerals and the like, and what they mean for people who only knew the deceased marginally or not at all. Are they long and boring? What if the service is from a faith different from their own? Are they uncomfortable? What's the proper protocol? When do I stand up, sit down? And what about this person that they had no or very small connection to? What can they hope to learn about them? What can an hour and half tell you about someone who lived for sixty plus years? What can an hour and a half tell you about anybody, no matter how long they lived?

And for those of us who did know her, what was left out? What memories do we choose to share, what do we keep to ourselves? It's an odd thing, reviewing a person's life and picking and choosing what parts get displayed. At such times as these, we choose to remember the best parts of her.

In our grief we like to be consoled. And we choose to recall happy moments, things that make us smile. We remember the best parts of her. If there were disagreements or unflattering things she had done or said, they can wait. Why add to the misery? I think there will be time enough to think on such things.

The past eleven days have been a whirlwind of activity. We've had family from out of state staying over at our house. I met one of the wife's cousins whom they hadn't seen in twenty plus years, when she was an infant, and I had never met. There have been cards and cards and cards. Very nice ones too. Flowers and flowers and flowers, also very nice. People have brought by food. It seems incredible that it hasn't been two weeks since she died and already it feels like a month. We've been going through her stuff, going out to eat, visiting with one another. Hardly a moment to one's self. I suppose that's a good thing. There are times to be alone and times to be together. This was a time to be together. Just, wow, with all the family and friends and well wishers. All the phone calls and cards. The driving back and forth from one place to another. I never saw such activity from so many people in such a short period of time.

Now that the flurry of activity is done, where do we go from here? Friends and family we haven't seen or spoken to in years, will we keep in touch? We exchanged phone numbers and emails. How far will good intentions carry us? How long before life settles back into a routine?

What will holidays be like without her cooking? What will birthdays and anniversaries be like? Graduation? God-willing, the birth of her grandchildren? What's Mother's Day without your mother? There was a book that came out some years ago called "Tuesdays With Morrie" by Mitch Albom about a young man's visits with an old man, Morrie, and their conversations and what lessons the young man learned from Morrie. For the wife, she had Tuesdays with Mommy. Thankfully, the last couple Tuesdays have been filled with activity. And this Tuesday we'll be getting ready to leave for vaca and next Tuesday we'll be coming back from vaca. But what about after that? A good friend of the family has basically insisted that my wife come and visit her on the following Tuesday after she gets back. Don't call, just show up. It won't be the same-nothing ever will be-but at least she won't be alone.

I have been told that there will be periods of intense longing and sadness. Probably some time after we get back from vaca, or even during. They're normal, but still may take us by surprise. A silly, random thing can pluck a heart string and stir a memory. I can't think of anything at the moment, but I know that they will come. Is there any defense against such attacks on the soul?

I suppose not. We cannot rely on our own strength, our own understanding. Is not God sufficient for us? It's been said that God never gives us more than we can handle. Maybe not. I'm glad He knows how much I can handle. I'm not sure I do. I wish I didn't have to find out.

What is the best way to honor the memory of the dead? What do we think she would have us do? What would she want? Would she say, weep not for me, for I am with Jesus? Would she say, let not your hearts be troubled? Would she say, sing unto God? I think so. I just don't know how.

I don't have the words. I don't have the voice. My heart is still raw and sore and bleeding. Let others lift up their voices in song. I can only write what I feel in my heart.

Lord, open my lips that my mouth may declare your glory. (Psalm 51) Amen.