That whole wake thing – in fact everything about how we deal with death - is one fascinating point to ponder in the sociological realm. On one side of the funeral home are the folks who are pretty much having a party, laughing and remembering fondly. On the other side are those who are sitting somberly, aching for the whole ordeal to end. At the wake for Chris' Dad we had a visitor. Well, we had a few people come who actually knew the family, but this lady was really a visitor. She told us she was 92 years old. She must have seen us all struggling to figure out who she was related to, because she finally admitted that she had just been to the rosary service in the other room to see what that would be like. She saw that there were some other people here, so she came over to see what was going on. She said some very encouraging words about how in her experience most of the time the people who have died were better off now without pain and suffering. She was by far the sweetest funeral crasher I have ever met.
Our friend Jennifer came over to hang out with Mom while we all attended the funeral service yesterday. That was a huge load off our minds. Mom has been kind of tanking again lately, so there is no way she could have made it through the day that we had. We did get some coconut oil to start trying with her. A high school friend recommended it based on some new Alzheimer's research. Something about the brain being able to absorb the good stuff in it. Not FDA approved, but then what is? I put some on my rice the other day. No taste at all. Guess that makes it easy to hide in foods. I don't feel any smarter than usual, but that was just one dose, right? We'll give it a try.
On our way to the funeral Chris saw a rat dart across the road. We thought about texting Christi with the great news and having her keep an eye out. They just nabbed one in their house, and she is not that fond of the little critters. As we drove on, I alternated between crossword puzzles and dozing. Somewhere in the mass of nothingness we go through between here and Bay City I heard Chris utter, "Oh, no." It wasn't fearful or intense. Just "Oh, no." It was enough to get my attention, though, so I asked what she saw. I was hoping for something else exotic to go along with the earlier rat. I was disappointed. It was a dead cow on the side of the road. I did ask if it was the same one that escaped the night before, but she said no.
My prayer for the day of the funeral was that it would be uneventful. Other than the rat and the dead cow, that prayer was answered. Not that it wasn't tense. The family dynamics are such that it was draining, primarily because no one really knew anyone else. But the service went fine. I did get Cailyn in trouble, though. I asked Chris if she had a pen so I could take notes on the sermon. I don't do too many funerals, so I hoped to get some ideas, which I did, by the way. The old retired preacher who did the ceremony had probably done a lot more of those than I have. The pen Chris handed me was a unique one. I pushed the end to get the point out, but to my amazement, that end was a hidden penlight instead. Now that's a toy to have at a funeral. I started playing with the little point of light, flashing it onto the back of the pew in front of me. This went on for a few minutes before I realized Cailyn was watching me. She was sitting with her Mom and Dad right behind us. She was being quiet, so I continued, just moving over a bit to give her a better view. That was all the encouragement she needed. All of a sudden she wanted to climb over the pew and sit with me. That would have been fine with me, but her Mom didn't know what was going on. She thought Cailyn was bothering us, so she pulled her back and gently fussed at her. Oh, she wasn't the only one who got scolded, though. Chris kind of elbowed me and told me with one of "those looks" to quit playing around. Oops. Busted. I make a terrible parishioner. I'm glad I'm the preacher at my church. That way I can do silly things and incorporate them as part of the sermon. At least I don't put myself to sleep.
Psalms 102:25-27 says, "In the beginning you laid the foundations of the earth, and the heavens are the work of your hands. They will perish, but you remain; they will all wear out like a garment. Like clothing you will change them and they will be discarded. But you remain the same, and your years will never end."
Father, thank you for answering my prayer for uneventful. Amen.
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