I attended a funeral Wednesday afternoon. This was the second funeral I’ve been to in the last couple of months. The gentleman who passed was my aunt’s father in law. He was 96 years old. I have known this man my entire life and I always think of him as a sweet soul. He was dressed in overalls in his casket and he looked peaceful.
Isn’t that what we say about everyone when they are gone? “He (or she) is at peace.”
The thing about funerals and me…I never cared for them much. And after my mom died it was very difficult to go to funerals, more so than usual, because the memories of losing her flooded back. I found myself crying over the loss of my mom while at someone else’s funeral on more than one occasion and that didn’t seem appropriate.
It’s been 13 years this June since I lost my mom. Not that it doesn’t bother me still, but it has become easier with time. It also helps that I am in a different place spiritually than I was back then. I don’t mind going so much anymore. Now, I am not trolling the obituaries seeking funerals to attend by any means. But when someone close passes and I NEED to show up…I don’t hesitate or come up with an excuse as I did in the past. I realize now that death is the end of this life…but for the person who has passed, it is only the beginning. Please do not take this the wrong way because I do not wish anyone to die. And I do not want to die. I just feel in my bones that we should celebrate the new life that the loved one or friend is experiencing now…without us. I imagine it to be a big party up there. I pray that I live to be 96 too because I have a lot to do yet…but if something happens before then, I am okay with that. I am not afraid of death anymore. I am more excited to be with Jesus and my loved ones who have gone before me than fearful. Call me crazy but it actually feels in a way like something to look forward to.
I am going on a trip far from home tomorrow. I have had anxiety about leaving my cats and my dad behind because I will be gone for a while. I even prepared a will. This might sound silly as a single woman with no children but I felt a responsibility to do it. I mean 44 is not exactly young. If I live to be 96 I am not even halfway there yet though. That is pretty cool actually. I went to visit my dad yesterday after the funeral and told him goodbye. I mentioned to him about my will and joked that I was leaving my cats to him if something happened. That probably wasn’t the best idea because my words created worry in his head. He actually said the words to me, “I have this feeling you are not coming back.” He was sad and THAT made me sad. Sometimes I just screw up with words. Yesterday was a good example of that. I don’t want my dad to worry about me. Even if I was not leaving tomorrow he would be worried though…that is what we do when we love someone. I worry about him too.
The pastor yesterday gave a great eulogy. He explained that George was now “home.” I expect that by the end of my trip I will be ready to be back at “home” and in my own bed. The pastor went on to explain his feelings about Heaven. He said something along the lines that he thinks when we arrive in Heaven it won’t feel like a strange place we’ve never been before but instead it will feel similar to going to that place of comfort where we reside in this life that we call home. I have lived in a couple of houses. I have lived in a couple of condos. I have lived in several apartments. I have even lived in a camper. All of those placed felt like home to me at the time I lived in them because all of my belongings and things that were familiar to me were there. I agree with the pastor. I have a good feeling that is what Heaven is like too. George wasn’t at the funeral home yesterday. His body was but his soul was at home. He IS at peace. I find comfort in that.
Blessings,
Stacey ~ iamalive