This month has emphasized long term focus. Sadly and unavoidably, the reality of living on earth brings forth what we don’t want: sickness and death; unfortunately, we all will experience this at some point in our lives. This past week was sad: I attended two funerals: one was for my happy, laughing one year old nephew, Sebastian and the other was for the sweet loving mom, Tracy, of my son’s best friend. I feel “numb” right now, but my mind doesn’t stop thinking, so many thoughts.
I spent the past weekend in Florida with family who were able to make it and it was comforting. I missed being with them so much. Every night ended up being a 2 am or later night oddly, but it was worth it because it was comforting talking, sharing meals, memories, laughing, sitting around the fire under the moonlight with the cool breeze blowing off the lake under Spanish moss filled oaks – so peaceful, except for the “circus” dog Millie who has it in her nature to jump over fires and bite the sparks, but that certainly made everyone laugh.
The day after I returned from Florida was Tracy’s. I had no words. Our boys are like brothers to each other; it was shocking and sad. All I could do was think, her boys were her everything; she enjoyed time with them, loved and protected them throughout all the time I’ve known her. That was her focus.
When passing is unexpected, the opportunity to prepare in advance isn’t possible and we all do the best we can getting through this. I listened to every word at each funeral, people sharing memories was comforting. I think it’s difficult for all of us to find the words we want to express, so we do our awkward best. I noticed something at both services that made me ponder, relating to finding the words and I woke up with this on my mind today. Most of the time, but especially when unexpected, someone speaks on behalf of the person who’s passed away and tries to find comforting words to those who are present. It is true that when someone in Jesus passes away, they are comfortable, peaceful, joyful, happy and content in the presence of God, there are no concerns but that is all we know. We honestly can’t say what they might say to us beyond that, because each person is unique and would have their own unique message to us; a personal one that no one else knows. This made me think: What would those I love want to say/share with me, with others? What would I want to say/share to others? Wouldn’t it be worthwhile to share our deepest personal thoughts before that day? Would someone else’s thoughts cover what we’d want to tell those we love? This is something most of us would not give much thought to, but it would be something I would want from those I love: What would you say? Would you want someone speaking for you, or would you have your own thoughts to share? I seriously thought about this and the first thing that came to my mind was the book of Ecclesiastes, written by Solomon (who asked God for the gift of wisdom) who was reflecting on life and meaning. Verses from that book often pop in my mind during every day living.
One day we will face this separation, and while we will be fine, will leave others behind, so what do you want to say, when it’s time to say goodbye? We all have personal thoughts, not everyone will care, but those who love us will. After experiencing this recently, I think it’s worthwhile to say the important things we want to share, the things that don’t come during casual daily conversations. I think it’s good to think about this and whether you have those conversations now or write it down, it will be meaningful to someone later on. Years ago, I worked with someone, a young mother, who had some health concerns that had popped up, so she went in for some routine tests. This was right before Valentine’s Day and it was the weirdest thing, she was normally very healthy (and young) but she for some reason was concerned about these routine tests. She ended up writing letters to her family in Valentine’s Day cards and setting them aside. It was like she had some insight, either that or she was a worrier, but her concerns became reality: an accident in the routine procedure caused her sudden passing. I’ll always remember her husband at the funeral mentioning how cherished those letters she wrote were to his family. The letters are for the ones left behind. It’s so hard to say goodbye but we might comfort others if we think about what we would say to those left behind, before it happens.
What would you say?
S.A.I.L. 