Blessed

The rectangular box, included in the display, said it all: blessed. It summed up my mother’s life, a life of eighty-eight years. It described my mother’s life, filled with happy memories with my father. It is the perfect way to summarize the day of my mother’s funeral/ celebration of life.

Pouring rain greeted us as we woke up and reminded us of the countless blessings of my mother’s life. Her Dutch family, Christian heritage, marriage to my father, and good health for most of her life are only some of the blessings. I know that many more could be listed.

Setting up for a funeral reminded me so much of different school events. We created nine different photo boards, spaced out in the church foyer as people entered the building. The wall hanging showcasing Heidelberg Catechism, Question and Answer #1 presented a little bit of a challenge. Where could we place it where people would see it? The easel stands worked for the rest of the displays, but were too small for the wall hanging. We ended up using a large white board as an easel. It wasn’t perfect, but it was okay. My brother didn’t like having the cousins’ wedding invitations, papers found in my mother’s cedar chest, as part of the display because some cousins could be offended that their program wasn’t included. We removed them, but I secretly thought it was rather trivial. Just like at school, working with other teachers, you let some things go.

Before the visitation began, we filed into a separate room to see my mother for one last time. The white casket, despite its expense, seemed fitting. The 48 red roses, arranged on top, included three ribbons: wife, mother, and Oma. My father cried and cried. Surprisingly, my eyes stayed dry.

At eleven, the visitation began. What a blessing to see so many people come to share their condolences! One of my best memories was when my high school friends surrounded me with hugs. Some of them were part of our cheerleading squad!

As the visitation ended, we gathered in the back room, one more time, for a time of prayer with the pastor. My mother’s sister and sister-in-law gathered with us. The director instructed us on seating.

As we entered the sanctuary, I felt an incredible sense of joy. Here we were, gathering together to praise God’s name. My mother’s death, although sad, brought a group of people together to praise Him!

My brother and I led several parts of the service. I shared the background and reason for the hymns chosen, played “How Great Thou Art”, and read two Psalms with my brother. Psalm 136, the echo reading, made me grin at times when my brother repeated the same line so many times. “His love endures forever”. I asked him to practice last night, but he cockily answered that he was perfectly capable of reading. The teacher part of me thought that he needed to use more expression at times AND look at the audience! Ha! After the pastor’s message, my brother entertained everyone with a time of remembrance of my mother. It was well-done and caused the audience to laugh from time to time.One of my favorite memories was passing out King Peppermints to the the audience. This was part of my mother’s church traditions. As soon as the pastor started preaching, she would take out a roll of Kings and offer it to others.

After lunch, we headed to the cemetery for the burial. Mitch forgot to turn off the oven before we left, so we ended up driving home first. The burned up chicken landed on the back deck, but we were thankful that we didn’t arrive home to burning embers. The burial service, short and sweet, concluded the day. We headed back to our house with the rest of the family where we sat around, discussing the day’s events and remembering funny stories about my mother.

As we ended the day, I couldn’t help wondering about this journey. For some reason, it feels like it’s only the start. I feel like God is going to reveal Himself in even bigger ways, but only time will tell.

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