The small flakes of falling snow were not accumulating as expected as we drove through the small town where I had always felt safe. Today it felt cold; my heart was as cold as the outside temperature.
It was a quiet ride through town. Each of us hiding our private thoughts and memories as we journeyed to the funeral home. We drove by the field where the neighborhood “gang” would gather to play after school. We passed the corner store we rushed to whenever Mom ran out of a staple needed to finish supper. The courthouse curve started the main drag through town. As teenagers we rode this course for hours cruising on Friday and Saturday nights.
Our destination was growing closer and anxiety choke my breathing as we passed the Catholic School and church we all attended. We pulled into a parking space at the town funeral home. John, the director, met us at the door. We had gone through school together; he was on the wrestling team with my brothers.
Even though the family had agreed on a closed casket I could see from the foyer that the lid was open. I looked at John questioningly. He explained Mom had called and asked it to be open for family then closed before others came to visitation. As we continued with some small talk about our kids and the weather I wondered if it had been difficult for him to prepare my brother for his funeral. Even now I could picture John and Gary posing with their trophies.
My Mom came by trying to convince me to go into the room with the open casket. Needless to say I declined; I did not want my last memory of my brother to be of him lying in his coffin. I’d rather remember him walking in after work, dirty and smelly from the grain elevator chewing on a cigar.
People were beginning to arrive so we went to our places by our parents who looked tired, heartbroken but strong I guess having two of your seven children dying before a parent would cause heartbreak. Before coming to the funeral home my dad just shook his head saying, ” how is it all of my brothers and sisters are alive and I’ve had to bury two of my sons.”
There is a particular look on the faces of people as they offer their condolences and sympathy; it includes sad puppy dog eyes, pathetic with a tentative smile. Maybe thinking “Glad I am not burying a loved one this close to Christmas.” Some simply walk by, others say trivial comments like: “At least he didn’t suffer, or He might have been crippled if he’d lived, Now he and Mike are together. But the award goes to the one who said, “well, at least you have one brother left.” I know they wer attempting to offer comfort and sympathy but I found it annoying.
The night continued to drag on. We drank pots of coffee and diet coke and visited with practically everyone in town. As the end of the line grew near I saw the town librarian talking to my brother. He had a strange grin on his face as he looked down after she passed him. As she talked with my sisters, they behaved similarly. When she took my hand to say she was sorry I saw why they were grinning.
She not only had the sad puppy look but she was wearing bright gold dangling Christmas bell earrings that tinkled as she shook my hand. I, too, looked down and tried to control the laughter waiting to be released. As my shoulders shook I know she thought I was crying. She patted my shoulder and went on down the line.
When she was safely away we looked at each other no longer able to control our laughter. My parents looked at us smiling, yet puzzled.
Maybe it was the lateness of the night or the emotion s of the night but we laughed and commented to each other how Gary would have loved that we laughed at his funeral. There was still a sense of loss but it was comforting to know we could still have a good time. It reminds me now of a line in the play Steel Magnolias by Robert Harling) at the funeral of young Shelby after a particularly emotional moment. “Laughter through tears is my favorite emotion.” Mine too, Truvy
God tells us, “Rejoice always. In Philippians 4:4 he repeats the command. ” Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again rejoice.”
At this time so long ago at my brother’s funeral I learned that in our most devastating moments we are reminded of the joy of life. We are able, with the help of God to be content in all things. My Mom was a living example of being content in all things. She prayed and trusted God’s strength through the many trials of her life. Maybe in her quiet moments she questioned God, maybe yelled at Him, but in front of us she was faithful. I took me several years to see this as faith. I actually held this against her for several years Wondering why she wasn’t “losing it” like me.
I was really angry, I no longer prayed, or poured out my heart to God. Retreating to protect myself from more hurt, I built walls round my heart. Depression came to camp in my head and in my heart. The death of my second brother, the closest in age to me, was the last straw in a long assortment of bitter straws.
I knew about trusting God, about choosing joy but I and my depression were stubborn. I lived in depression for many years, was a poor mother at times because of it, I contemplated suicide to end the pain. But God intervened with a look of love from my kids, with a counselor and with the prayers of a mother who never gave up on me
I was able to climb out of the pit of despair by love. I now try to follow my Mom’s example of being content at all times. Perhaps she, like me, found encouragement in Philippians 4:10-13 : ” I rejoice greatly in the Lord that at last you have renewed your concern for me. …I am not saying this because I am in need, for I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances. I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty of in want. I can do everything through him who gives me strength.”
Troubles continue to come as God warns us in John 6:33, “I have told you these things so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.”
Yes, I still have troubles. Sometimes the pit looks so inviting but by the strength of Jesus Christ I can choose Joy! I can choose to trust! I can remember jingling Christmas earrings and smile for I know God loves me… and a hearty laugh at times of sadness relieves despair.
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