Jtwenty7

Thursday, March 28, 2013

Child's Play

Last week my husband's grandma died and all five of us made the trek to Marion, Indiana for the visitation and funeral.  The services were held at the same funeral home they had used for his grandpa's services nine years ago, so there was a bit of familiarity.

I was certainly familiar with the funeral home in my town growing up.  For one thing, my grandpa worked there, helping out a little after he retired.  It was a building on the end of the main square that doubled as the town furniture store, so if the weather was bad, the line for the viewing would weave in and out and around couches, chairs and lamps.  Nothing like a captive shopper.

I don't think I could count the number of times I have worked my way through those love seats, seemingly a lot of times for my own family.

However last week was a first for me, trying to somewhat corral three small children for several hours during a visitation.  At one point I had Natalie chasing her newfound cousin through the chapel, Melina practicing her dance moves in the adjacent room and Aiden swinging around on the brass sign that identified the room as that of Shirley Thompson.  And the time they were using the casket as cover during hide and seek.

It flooded me with memories that are so clear of playing with my own cousin at my grandma's visitation when I was eight.  We probably did some of the same things and I can certainly recall making visits to grandma's casket-side to check on her.

As adults we are too refined for children's games in the presence of death.  Watching my children respond to the death of a loved one reminded me of how obstinately life moves on when someone departs.  You can't stop it.

I felt it when Loran died.  Melina was a baby and had just rolled over for the first time when I got the call that he had succumbed to cancer.  I had no time to grieve until the funeral when my mother-in-law took Melina for a short time so I could attend.  I cried and cried throughout the service in that dark room.  As soon as it ended, I followed the woman who had given me a ride out the door and was immediately blinded by the bright sun.  Suddenly my window of grief had closed and I was rushed back to my waiting baby and then work a little while later.  Life moved on.

Death cannot stop life.  Life will prevail every time.  I saw it in the sunlight that day and I saw it in the actions of my children last week.  Their little hearts know and we have the daunting task of reminding them as they grow older.


1 Corinthians 15:55-57

New International Version (NIV)
55 “Where, O death, is your victory?
    Where, O death, is your sting?”[a]
56 The sting of death is sin, and the power of sin is the law.57 But thanks be to God! He gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.



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