Sweet pain in the afternoon

Our day started off normally enough. The hub woke up at 5:40. On a Saturday. The boy woke up five minutes later. They took a trip to see Jerry, our favorite barber and all around good guy, and got the untameable mess on the boy's head chopped off. This is a good thing, for I was running out of creative options for making him look human. After a riveting morning filled with kid shoe shopping and kitchen floor sample looking, we returned to our abode for lunch and solar system construction. Living the dream as usual, friends.

This afternoon we changed clothes and went to church for an event no one looks forward to attending but we long to be there as a tiny source of comfort:  a receiving of friends and funeral. With three children in toe, there was a lot of coaching and explaining and question answering. As a parent, you don't want your children to say anything to the family that will make things worse. Comforting words....comforting words. It was hard not to reflect back to when my grandmother died. The sick feeling in my stomach. The exhaustion from the physical and emotional toll that death can bring to those left behind...the loss not yet fully realized.  My heart hurt for the family. We walked into the sanctuary, me straightening the boy's tie and pulling G's hands away from the belt on her tunic top. Familiar faces were heavily peppered throughout the crowd, some smiling, some crying, some brightening as they caught a glimpse of a face from years ago. The children were anxious to see Dr. Mark. As with people they love and have known for their lifetime, they have always asked to call him "Uncle"....their ultimate gesture of love and devotion. When we got close, he complimented the boy on his dapper appearance, told the girls how much they were growing and took them into his arms. "When you leave here and go to lunch or home or about your day, will you children do me a favor?", Mark asked. "Will you look at your mom and dad and tell them how much you love them? Will you do that for me?". Wide eyed faces nodded in obedience with tears welling in all the eyes. He told them he loved them very much and then we moved on to speak to his sweet sister and other family members. After speaking with the rest of the extended family, we made our way out. I sent the hub and two children away, for a severe case of ants in the pants is never received well in a somber church service....and we had a doubly bad case, I'm afraid.  S and I looked at the lovely pictures of Nancy, commenting on our memories of seeing her in the grocery store, our stomachs growling when she told us what she would be fixing with the contents of her buggy. After making our way back into the sanctuary and finding a seat in the pew, we waited for the service to begin. We were very early, but it was so sweet to see so many people to come and honor the memory of this woman and show their deep affection for the family. With Granny, I remember that just when we didn't think we could stand upright another second, another welcome face gave us strength to make it for a little bit longer.  When the service began, we were overwhelmed and blessed by the beautiful music and words spoken. Music moves me in a way no spoken words can. It stirs me to my very soul. The beauty of seeing the choir sing, not only to God, but also to one of their beloved members who had been in their position so many times before just brought me to my knees. What a fitting benediction to a lovely life. I don't know who felt blessed more....but I am eternally grateful for the sweet pain that comes from loving and losing, by a family so steadfast in their faith and a church loving them through all of it.  I am blessed to have been a witness....


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