By Angel Simmons ©
Today I sat through my fifth funeral in the last four weeks. I watched as person after person got up and attempted to give remarks through their tears. One young man couldn’t even finish talking. And when he got back to his seat, he couldn’t stop sobbing. Like the last two funerals I attended, this family had lost a mother. The grief in the room was so heavy that I flew out of the door as soon as the last song ended. Normally I can hide my emotions. But the death of anyone’s mother always tugs at my heart.
Among the many specific prayer requests I have for my future husband, one has always been “someone who can console me when mama dies”. I know that devastation has the potential to completely break me. A few years ago, she was rushed to the hospital suddenly. On the outside, I was a soldier- handling business, updating family, dealing with insurance and doctors with grace. But inside I was almost overwhelmed by all the details of her surgery and months of recovery at home. When her final time comes, I will undoubtedly need strong support beside me. And I know that my husband, being the closest person to me, would be the ONLY one who could hold me together and handle me properly.
I have yet another funeral to attend next week. Now, at this point, some people would be immune to the sadness of it all. A few people have even questioned why bother to I go. Having lost so many dear to me, I understand how important having support is to the grieving- not a card or flowers, but your physical presence that brings comfort. So I extend my condolences by showing up to give my love. And I sit there praying for the family’s strength, and with my soul crying out to go and find the ones I love and hold them close. I realize our time here is short. And I want to make sure I spend every moment that I can with the people I care the most for. Maybe my heart is just too big. Or maybe… it’s in the exact right place. Go reach out to those you love. Always consider it matter of life and death.
October 4, 2014