Mourning
I've had some time to reflect over the past few days. A corps member passed away last Wednesday night from terminal cancer. In her last days it spread to her lungs and her shortness of breath had come peacefully still in bed that night. Her funeral was on Saturday and the burial was on Monday.
It has been the 5th funeral I think I've been to since mom's passing and I really have to say, this one hit home hard too. I think Will & Esther's dad's funeral was the hardest since then but this one was like re-living it again.
I feel quite guilty that I felt so overcome by emotion during the burial service, especially because I felt as if I were going through the motions of my past. She left behind her husband, daughter of 19 and son of 15 and every time I looked at them I could remember my family sharing a similar pain and loss. Every time I looked at the son holding his mother's framed photo, my memory would flash back to Kevin (at the age of 5) holding mom's photo, looking at me and saying that he missed her. Every time I looked at the daughter, I thought of myself - numb from the shock of knowing that my relationship with my mother before she left this earth was far from ideal, and trying to keep it together for the rest of my family so that they didn't lose it either. I recall Kristen's sadness and look as if she hoped this were just a bad dream. Every time I looked at the father, I thought of my own, knowing now the kind of pain and loss he must have felt to have his life partner gone and three children still to be raised.
I wanted to offer words of solace and sympathy but struggled to find words. I've been there, I know that most of them go in one ear and out the other because the whole thing is such a blur. I wanted to tell them it will get better but couldn't because sometimes it gets worse before it gets better. I wanted to tell them I know, but I know that I don't know exactly what they are going through - just because it was mom and cancer, doesn't mean it's the same. I kept my mouth shut needless to say and shed more tears than I wanted to that day.
Thankfully, one of our corps members thought I should sit in the car since it was cold and he thought I looked under the weather. I blubbered on in the car alone, thankful, and called my dad. He was quite taken aback that I was calling him, crying, but told me that things will get better, that we got through it, and that he knows that it's hard. I love my father and am amazed that he survived and thrived 7 years with us after mom's passing. Without him we wouldn't have made it.
I wish that I could say or do something at this time for this family - but I feel that I'm still too much of an outsider that it would be intrusive. I will continue to pray for their strength and comfort through this time and onward - as I know this sadness is something you carry deep inside you always.
It has been the 5th funeral I think I've been to since mom's passing and I really have to say, this one hit home hard too. I think Will & Esther's dad's funeral was the hardest since then but this one was like re-living it again.
I feel quite guilty that I felt so overcome by emotion during the burial service, especially because I felt as if I were going through the motions of my past. She left behind her husband, daughter of 19 and son of 15 and every time I looked at them I could remember my family sharing a similar pain and loss. Every time I looked at the son holding his mother's framed photo, my memory would flash back to Kevin (at the age of 5) holding mom's photo, looking at me and saying that he missed her. Every time I looked at the daughter, I thought of myself - numb from the shock of knowing that my relationship with my mother before she left this earth was far from ideal, and trying to keep it together for the rest of my family so that they didn't lose it either. I recall Kristen's sadness and look as if she hoped this were just a bad dream. Every time I looked at the father, I thought of my own, knowing now the kind of pain and loss he must have felt to have his life partner gone and three children still to be raised.
I wanted to offer words of solace and sympathy but struggled to find words. I've been there, I know that most of them go in one ear and out the other because the whole thing is such a blur. I wanted to tell them it will get better but couldn't because sometimes it gets worse before it gets better. I wanted to tell them I know, but I know that I don't know exactly what they are going through - just because it was mom and cancer, doesn't mean it's the same. I kept my mouth shut needless to say and shed more tears than I wanted to that day.
Thankfully, one of our corps members thought I should sit in the car since it was cold and he thought I looked under the weather. I blubbered on in the car alone, thankful, and called my dad. He was quite taken aback that I was calling him, crying, but told me that things will get better, that we got through it, and that he knows that it's hard. I love my father and am amazed that he survived and thrived 7 years with us after mom's passing. Without him we wouldn't have made it.
I wish that I could say or do something at this time for this family - but I feel that I'm still too much of an outsider that it would be intrusive. I will continue to pray for their strength and comfort through this time and onward - as I know this sadness is something you carry deep inside you always.
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