Yesterday morning I sat with the family of the young man who overdosed while they made arrangements at the local funeral home. Like the experience at the hospital the day before, the process was quite overwhelming for them and for me. Our occasional attempts at lighthearted humor could do little to divert us from the reason why we were all there.
I thought I'd share a few reflections on my sojourn through the process of planning a funeral for the 20-year old son of two grieving parents. There is so much that could be shared, but I will limit my thoughts to the following:
1.) First of all, a surrealism settled in on me when we stepped into the "Display Room" where the sample caskets were laid out for prospective customers. As I walked beside the father, he off-handedly remarked, "I feel like I'm at a used car lot." Oak...bronze...cherry...there were caskets of every conceivable make and model. And they were all available to buy at prices that rivaled a car lot. I couldn't help but agree with the father's assessment, but unfortunately, the extended warranty on his purchase that day was forever.
2.) As we were sitting in the funeral director's office, the honking of a nearby car horn momentarily drew my attention to the flurry of activity outside the window. And the disparity of the situation was never more real. It occurred to me that multitudes of people were driving past the Conkle funeral home going on about their daily lives never realizing that inside were two parents having to make decisions about their son that no one ever imagines. How many times have I driven past that same funeral home with scarcely a thought about those inside struggling in the throes of final arrangements for a loved one? It won't happen again.
3.) One final thought...I was struck by the irreversable finality of it all as we wrapped up our lengthy conversation and the father wrote out the check to cover expenses. There he was filling it out as if he were paying for groceries at the supermarket, only the circumstances were far more costly. I can only imagine what was going through his mind as he applied his signature to that check. I reflected back to the beginning of our conversation when we were writing out the obituary. How do you summarize a person's life in 20 lines of newspaper copy? What does a life cost? And more importantly, what is the legacy of a life? For each of us, it is different. But I hope that we will each have an obituary that is worthy of a life well-lived. I'm reminded of the very brief eulogy written of Enoch--"He walked with God." I hope that when my time comes to step out of this world and into the next, people might say the same of me.
(The funeral is scheduled for Saturday. I hope to post some additional thoughts after that experience.)
I will be praying for you John, and for the young mans' family.
Posted by: Dana | March 22, 2007 at 08:27 AM
Wish I had been able to read this before Sat., John, but will still be praying for this family. I was at a funeral a week 1/2 ago, too, for Tim's Grandma. What people said, over and over, about Grandma VanderSchie was that she was faithful to her Lord, serving Him until the day she met Him face to face. She truly lived each day abiding with Him and living for Him. The day before, when she was in the hospital, with a huge smile she told the nurse "I am going home very soon!" As you said, I pray that on the day people gather to celebrate my Homegoing what they will be able to say about my life is simply, "Her life was all about her Jesus." And then I hope people will not stare at a casket or a plot in the ground...I pray they Look Up...for I will be there, where I've always longed to be, with my Jesus. :)
Posted by: Erin | March 29, 2007 at 07:52 PM