Today was my aunt's funeral. I was asked to be a pallbearer. It was actually
my second time doing so. It was definitely an honor for such a great lady.
Throughout the funeral they all talked about how patient and kind and caring
she was. There was a time that her daughter spoke of where she just threw her
doll into the front seat of the car, and mom took the doll and said, "Don't
ever treat your doll like that!" Then she picked up the doll and wrapped in in
her blanket and put it on hoer shoulder and patted it's back. Her daughter
said, "Oh mom, it's just a doll!" But then her mom said, "Oh, I bought these
so you could practice being good mommies, don't ever treat your dolls like
that!"
They also spoke of a time when they were walking down the street and they saw
some lady rushing her child who was trying to stop and pick up rocks. Their
mom said, not mean or judging, but just pleading with them - "Don't ever rush
a child or keep them from picking things up."
Everyone spoke of times that she would let kids help in the kitchen, doing as
much as she could let them do - whether that was scooping cookies, which made
for "interestingly sized cookies", even letting the kids crack the eggs. She
wasn't as much concerned with how many people she needed to feed or how soon
as she was with helping kids learn how to help. It was a great reminder about
what's really important in life.
I was pretty much going fine until we were singing the closing hymn - "God Be
With You (Till We Meet Again)". It's a song that I've sang many times before.
This time, I was reminded that she was pretty instrumental in my being part of
a dedicatory choir at one point in my life. I also recalled that at the
viewing the night before I was talking to her daughter who said, that the two
sister were trying to figure out what all things their mom would want for her
funeral and they kind of put together this program... And then one of the
granddaughters was looking in Grandma's phone and found what she wanted for
her funeral program, and the daughter said, "Well, of course Mom would
have been that organised!". When I thought about that, it was as the voice of
one crying from the dust, and the fact that she knew we would be there,
mourning her, and she wanted to leave us with comforting words... That just
struck me and I pretty much just started sobbing. I kept trying to sing, but I
couldn't ever really get going again. My son gave me a hug and told me< "I'm
sorry your aunt died." And he is just 5 years old! So that kind of set off
fresh waves of grief.
It was also an odd experience at the viewing. My cousin that I looked up to
and always wanted to be like, he came and asked me if _I_ had any advice
(because I lost my brother to cancer 8 years ago). The role reversal was
really strange for me.
I'm sad that the earth has one less shining star on it. But I'm happy that
she's no longer suffering through the pain and downright torture of the
treatments that she was receiving.
