Going to a funeral for a 9-yr-old boy gets you contemplative about life.
It makes you cry.
Or want to.
I've been playing the song Hello, I'm in Delaware by Dallas Green because the acoustic suits my mood and the past week. And me. And I love the song Day Old Hate by that guy, too.
He's all acoustic, as far as I've heard. And I love it.
So...this morning was the funeral; yesterday was the visitation, and I've never been to both parts of a funeral before. It's been a while since there's been a funeral, but when I was a kid--er, younger, we'd only go to one part of it. The funeral. Or the visitation.
And it's weird seeing a child-sized casket. And it's the son of people you know. And you saw that boy just a month ago. And he . . . needed to . . . go home. His family brought him home to live for the last 80 days, because there was nothing else that humans could do for him. (it was cancer, for those of you who don't know...)
One trivial thing that's wrong is that it feels like it's Sunday.
Want to know why?
Well. We've been to church two days in a row . . . that's kinda weird. But like we could help it. Yesterday was church, then Sarah and Justin came over for lunch and Eliyah took a much-needed nap, considering they were quite busy socializing Saturday with her 1-yr birthday party . . . I made a lot of coffee yesterday. I was brewing regular Trader Joe's when they arrived, and then I did half a pot of hazelnut decaf so Sarah could have some. Then, kind of at the request of Justin, who was getting tired after lunch but was discussing health topics with Mom, I brewed another pot of regular. And refilled his cup again. And again. :) Then he took a nap while Sarah went to get pictures done for Eliyah, and I set to work making 2 pans of toffee bars for the funeral the next day --today, because there were a lot of people from his school coming.
Anyhow.
Mom, Anna, Rach, Lyd and I sang a song with my acoustic-electric guitar at the funeral. Psalm 23. (this is where we originally got the song from; a lady singing it while laboring...haha!)
Mom and Anna broke down halfway through the song, but I carried it with the little girls. It's not that I wasn't affected, it's just...it wasn't my time. I cried later, when Pastor was reading different things about Jacob, what he loved, when he was here. Anna and I together used a mountain of Kleenexes, as we were sitting next to each other.
But yeah . . . after avoiding those deep, serious, probing thoughts of life and what are we really doing . . . now, me, I'm not a mommy, I'm not a wife. I'm a sister. A daughter. And sometimes I'm just trying to figure out how I can be better at those things, and not completely suck at it.
Hm. So, after all this avoidance for a couple hours this afternoon, I'm getting off to brew some coffee (it's only 4:30, but I better get hopping) and read some of the book of John. It's my favorite gospel. I started it ...I don't know how many weeks ago, but I'm on chapter 15 or somewhere around there. I need to get cracking like pistachios on that one. (Haha, I just quoted Maximillian.)
Another trivial but more important thing than the above is that I haven't yet found my camera and cord that got lost the other day. So. I can't even put those concert pictures/videos in yet, either. Darnit!
Pray and hope we find my camera. Soon. I'm going into withdrawals . . . The trees are budding and flowers are growing and things are happening that I want to capture.
Little children, let us not love in word or speech but in action and in truth.
[1 John 3:18]
Anyhow.
Mom, Anna, Rach, Lyd and I sang a song with my acoustic-electric guitar at the funeral. Psalm 23. (this is where we originally got the song from; a lady singing it while laboring...haha!)
Mom and Anna broke down halfway through the song, but I carried it with the little girls. It's not that I wasn't affected, it's just...it wasn't my time. I cried later, when Pastor was reading different things about Jacob, what he loved, when he was here. Anna and I together used a mountain of Kleenexes, as we were sitting next to each other.
But yeah . . . after avoiding those deep, serious, probing thoughts of life and what are we really doing . . . now, me, I'm not a mommy, I'm not a wife. I'm a sister. A daughter. And sometimes I'm just trying to figure out how I can be better at those things, and not completely suck at it.
Hm. So, after all this avoidance for a couple hours this afternoon, I'm getting off to brew some coffee (it's only 4:30, but I better get hopping) and read some of the book of John. It's my favorite gospel. I started it ...I don't know how many weeks ago, but I'm on chapter 15 or somewhere around there. I need to get cracking like pistachios on that one. (Haha, I just quoted Maximillian.)
Another trivial but more important thing than the above is that I haven't yet found my camera and cord that got lost the other day. So. I can't even put those concert pictures/videos in yet, either. Darnit!
Pray and hope we find my camera. Soon. I'm going into withdrawals . . . The trees are budding and flowers are growing and things are happening that I want to capture.
Little children, let us not love in word or speech but in action and in truth.
[1 John 3:18]
8 comments:
When I was 11, my 2 year old nephew died from pneumonia. I was confused and devestated, he was my fav little guy, blue eyes and blonde hair. At 11, I had a hard time understanding and coping with death, especially of a child. One morning or evening (not sure), I was laying in my bed and I was hurting for Stevie and somewhere in my heart I was asking God where is he, is he ok? I turned my head and looked at a picture hanging on my wall...it was a picture of Jesus sitting with the children around him, and on His lap was a little boy, with blue eyes and blonde hair...I knew that Stevie was with Jesus and I became at peace. :)
A military family that we know, had a miscarriage when their baby was 12 weeks in utero (I was pregnant with Charlie at the time, we were due the same week), and then a few months later, lost their 2 year old son due a stomach issue. When we went to the funeral, the first thing that the mother said to me when she saw me, was how great I looked (belly full of baby, she would have been just as far along), and I couldn't keep it together. As soon as I was out of her sight, I sobbed uncontrollably. And during the funeral, when they showed pictures of the little boy and read his favorite Thomas the Train book, I think my heart came to a complete stop. All I could picture was it being MY little girl. This happening to ME. I kept looking over at the family, wondering how they were sitting there, hearts still beating, lungs still breathing...
I just can't imagine losing a child.
I don't want to imagine losing a child.
Its my biggest fear. My worst nightmare.
Sometimes to the point of paranoia.
Seeing a child size coffin isn't anything that any good natured soul can honestly do without feeling pain in one way or another.
(I hope you find your camera soon)
Thinking of you. As a teacher of 9 year olds, I simply can't even imagine. Hang in there.
So sad. I can't imagine seeing a child sized coffin. It just seems so unnatural. I'm so glad we serve a God who is gracious in the natural and the unnatural, and He ultimately knows best. I heard a story just this weekend about a 3 year old who pulled a chest of drawers over on him (by climbing on the drawers) and it crushed him. His family had adopted him, as he was a fetal alcohol baby, with many health issues. The family had an older daughter who was so distraught, but she prayed and asked God why and said He told her that it was better for the little boy to be in Heaven, because his life would have been a hard one. She was all of 8 or 10? Never underestimate the faith of a child! They love a lot, and trust much.
Now, please pass the kleenex.
Thanks for the comments, ladies.
Gosh...the things we've heard/seen/remember.
And yes, Leanna, God is good, above all else..
I read in Colossians 1 today about "endurance and patience-with-joy". Paul prayed that the church would be strengthened with the power of God in these things. :) So when we go through fire, and we are blessed with endurance and patience with joy...it's His power working in us. :)
Thank you for sharing your week--will continue to pray for comfort and peace and "power" for his family.
Oh, I couldn't even imagine how horrible this would be. Thanks for sharing and I hope things feel better.
so, so sad. thank you for sharing this, life is short, it really is and we all need reminded of that and what the truly important things are.
hope you find your camera soon! ahhhh--that would drive me crazy!
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