"My funeral," the Blue Man said. "Look at the mourners. Some did not even know me well, yet they came. Why? Did you ever wonder? Why people gather when others die? Why people feel they should? "It is because the human spirit knows, deep down, that all lives intersect. That death doesn't just take someone, it misses someone else, and in the small distance between being taken and being missed, lives are changed. "You say you should have died instead of me. But during my time on earth, people died instead of me, too. It happens every day. When lightning strikes a minute after you are gone, or an airplane crashes that you might have been on. When your colleague falls ill and you do not. We think such things are random. But there is a balance to it all. One withers, another grows. Birth and death are part of a whole. "It is why we are drawn to babies . . ." He turned to the mourners. "And to funerals."
Except from The Five People You Meet in Heaven by Mitch Albom
I had thought about little else that day. The news of aunty’s departure was sudden and abrupt, but not entirely unexpected. Many questions came to my mind as I made my way to the house. I had never been to Wake before. Do I bring flowers? Do you write a card? Do you make donation? How much? What are the right things to say? Is there ever a right thing to say?
I spotted my friend from a distance and pushed those questions aside. If I didn't know, I'd just find out later. Right now, there was a friend needing comforting. She was aunty’s eldest daughter. Her eyes looked a bit swollen. I couldn’t be sure if it was from crying or exhaustion… perhaps it was both. I tightened my grip on the little card I brought along as I walked up to her and gave her a hug.
“I’m so sorry….” came the whisper from my lips.
That was all I said. I've always had this weird belief that special moments require special words.. words that somehow reflected the significance of the event. But even after spending the entire day thinking and meditating upon it, that was all I could bring myself to say..."I'm sorry..." Perhaps it was the only thing to say really….. the gravity of the events did not need overstating. The service started as soon as I arrived. Thank goodness I wasn't late. The crowd starting singing hymns and Christian songs that Aunty was most fond of. Halfway through Amazing Grace, came another whisper;
“Are you a Christian?” Many heads bowed in prayer. A few did not.
Though I too grieved over the sudden departure of Aunty, I knew deep inside that this was not the end. This was not goodbye. Christians aren’t immune to sadness and grieving… but we are told not to grieve without hope. One day, we will be raised again. We will be united in Christ with the ones dear to us. I wondered what comfort those who did not believe had. I wonder what hope they kept in the face of death. I remember my mother weeping when I was a kid. She had heard that her own aunt, the closest thing she had to a mother – died before knowing Christ. I could not understand this at the time. The full realization of death and what it meant to have a hope that goes beyond death did not come until much later. But that night more than ever before, I was reminded what it meant, and just how priceless it truly is to have this faith. The dearer someone is to you, the more critical this faith becomes.
The eulogies came from friends who’d known Aunty for decades… one of them my own relative. I smiled as I heard testimonies about how Aunty would go through great lengths to prepare the favourite foods for her friends and loved ones. I smile because well… it was Aunty’s cooking that I remembered most clearly too. It’s funny that in the end, it is the simple gestures and small acts of kindness that seem to leave the biggest impact on people’s lives. And with Aunty, it was her simple act of preparing food for people that showed how warm and loving she really was. The testimonies were proof of that.
“She looks so pretty” came another whisper.
This time I was standing at her coffin looking down on her. She did look pretty. It was actually the first time in my life that I have come face to face with the deceased. I gazed silently. It’s a sobering experience. It forces you to confront the hard truths of life. Everyone born of this world will die one day. It’s just a matter of when. Mankind puts the value of human life above all other creatures. But under the sun, the only difference between our lives and that of even a May fly is that we live for less than a hundred years and a May Fly lives for just a few days. When you compare that to the eternal span of time, our lives are a miniscule dot in grand scheme of things only marginally longer than others. But there was a key difference; unlike the May Fly and every other creature on earth, mankind wasn’t created just to exist. We were created to nurture and love one another, to learn & marvel at all of creation, and ultimately to know, honour & worship the one that created it all - God The Creator. The God that I knew Aunty had been faithful to till the very end. She had finished well, and that was a comforting thought. I placed one hand on the coffin, closed my eyes and said a quick prayer, committing Aunty into His hands. God keeps all his promises.
Everyone was talking casually and laughing; everything from upcoming weddings, cost of funerals, latest movies and even career prospects in the airline industry. On the way home I wondered why this was so. Why did everyone talk about everything else except the reason we were all there? Maybe many just didn’t know how to tackle the subject. Or maybe like me, many people fear the clumsy words that may escape their mouths. Maybe everyone was trying to put on a brave face, or trying to cheer up the surviving family. But I realized something; our collective presence there as a group was a physical message that made a stronger statement than any amount of words could convey. And that statement is that ‘We are with you. Your loss is my loss. Your sorrow is my sorrow’. By being present, the heavy weight of grief is carried by all. The family need not mourn alone.
I was among a group that was the very last guest to leave. I made a promise to my friend as much as to myself that I will visit again at the end of the week. On the way home, another whisper came from a friend
“I’m glad they’re OK. They seem to be taking it rather well…”.
I was glad too. But I appealed to them in earnest; our role does not end here. As reality sinks in over the next few months, so will the pain of this loss increase. A lot of people don’t understand grief. The most painful moments don’t come immediately after the events, they come later when the state of shock is gone and the gravity of it all starts to be felt.
“It is in those darkest hours that we must be there.” I whispered in my heart.
To my dear friend….
If and when you read this, again, I am sorry for your loss. Please allow me to share this as words of comfort and encouragement to you and your entire family.
The 18th-century Bible commentator Matthew Henry wrote these words that he hoped would be read after his death by anyone who might unduly mourn his passing. May it be a comfort to you too. He wrote:
“Would you like to know where I am?
I am at home in my Father’s house, in the mansions prepared for me here. I am where I want to be—no longer on the stormy sea, but in God’s safe, quiet harbor. My sowing time is done and I am reaping; my joy is as the joy of harvest.
Would you like to know what I am doing?
I see God, not as through a glass darkly, but face to face. I am engaged in the sweet enjoyment of my precious Redeemer. I am singing hallelujahs to Him who sits upon the throne, and I am constantly praising Him.
Would you know what blessed company I keep?
It is better than the best on earth. Here are the holy angels and the spirits of just men made perfect. I am with many of my old acquaintances with whom I worked and prayed, and who have come here before me.
Lastly, would you know how long this will continue?
It is a dawn that never fades! After millions and millions of ages, it will be as fresh as it is now. Therefore, weep not for me!”
I believe with all my heart that Aunty will be telling us all the same thing from up above.
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