On a beautiful, warm, sunny morning one year ago today, I bid a final earthly farewell to my father. It was the most difficult day of my life since the other most difficult day of my life bidding my mother a final goodbye on a cold, rainy, snowy blustery day just one year before. The shining sun warmed the earth, a breeze carried the scent of trees in bloom, and the song of birds drifted gently in from afar – a wonderful reunion was at hand!
As the day of honoring my father unfolded I was embraced with love from oh so many who had loved my dad. The rites, the acts of honor, the gatherings, the pleasantries – all served a purpose – not only for my dad but for getting me through the day. The week of chaotic preparation – the obit writing, the slide show, the service planning, the cremation, the notifying, the receiving of others, the trying to make sure everything was done just right – had come to an end.
Every one that had surrounded my brother and I for the days preceding were getting on with their lives – there were tee times to make and lawns to be mowed, groceries to be bought, work to get back to, weekend getaways to get on with.
It was then that the silence set in – the reality of it all came crashing down. Spending that night alone, in the house that had been a home to so much life gave powerful testimony to what I had lost. The emptiness was paralyzing. Having powered through my emotions for days the weight of grief suddenly buried me. It would do so for days, weeks, and months to come.
Looking back on this year now I have a much different perspective. The emptiness that accompanied me through life is starting to be filled with the joy of living again. The sorrow that still lingers is now appreciated for what it is – a tribute to the depth of love I have for my parents – rather than suffocating my will to live.
As a child I was terrified of the thought that one day my parents would die. I comforted myself by presuming that I would have my own family to attend to when those that had attended to me passed on; that the family life that I had known would be carried on through us.
That wasn’t to be. Rather, I was intended to make this journey on my own – a solitary quest for life after death. By the grace of God and with the strength of the Holy Spirit I endured. I am a new person now molded by the revealing experience of death and emboldened to meet the opportunities of life.
“Do you not know?
Have you not heard?
The Lord is the everlasting God,
the Creator of the ends of the earth.
He will not grow tired or weary,
and his understanding no one can fathom.
He gives strength to the weary
and increases the power of the weak.
Even youths grow tired and weary,
and young men stumble and fall;
but those who hope in the Lord
will renew their strength.
They will soar on wings like eagles;
they will run and not grow weary,
they will walk and not be faint.” – Isaiah 40:28-31