For the wages of sin is death, but the free gift of God is eternal life through Christ Jesus our Lord
Romans 6:23
When Jim and I got into the funeral business, I thought for sure the hardest part would be dealing with the deceased. Being a pretty emotional girl, I thought seeing a deceased person would send me into a fit of tears. To my surprise, it's not the dead, but the living who break my heart.
As humans, we try to hold tightly to those we love. Even as Christians -- we may know in our minds and believe in our hearts that death is simply the end of our Earthly lives -- but we still want our loved ones here with us. Maybe its the uncertainty -- that gap that should be filled by faith, that gets tested in the face of death. When we lose a loved one we feel cheated -- no matter how much time we had with them, it wasn't enough. This makes sense in cases of young deaths -- people who didn't get a chance to live a full life. But it also happens with older adults. Senior citizens who, by the calendar at least, have lived a good long life still leave behind struggling, greiving, and sometimes angry loved ones. How do you fill a void that has been filled by a loving spouse for over half a century? How is that ever enough time to have spent with them? Our vows say "til death do us part" --- but how do you live with the separation? Unless God calls us home together - there is always going to be one left behind.
I've heard people say - "they are in a better place now." Why doesn't that give me any comfort? If something happened to someone I loved -- as wonderful as I imagine Heaven is -- I want them here with me. So I struggle with the living. I can hold the hands of the deaceased, and know they truly are in a better place -- a place with no suffering, no sickness, no pain. But I don't know what to say to the husband who just watched his wife take her last breath or the parents who have outlived a child. What can you say?
I don't know what the right answer is -- I'm not sure there is one. But I've listened to my husband and he always seems to say the right thing. He doesn't talk about the death - but the life of the person. I think memories are the best medicine for grief. You can be burdened and shackled to the death -- or you can be uplifted by the memories of the life. So my wish, for whomever is left behind when I go to meet Jesus - remember my life. Remember that I was a dreamer with my head in the clouds. Remember that I loved Skittles. Remember the time I sat in a tree stand, traveled to Japan, married my best friend. Remember that when I get to Heaven - and I will - that the first thing I will do after hugging my Dad's neck, is ask God to watch over everyone I left behind.
