The End of the Journey, the Beginning of Everlasting Life.

Life is about the journey, right?  The way in which one travels the journey is the outward expression of ones most inner thoughts.  A happy outside facade would generally mean a happy inside person.  I know it is possible to fake it until you make it_i've done it_but if one is consistently smiling and happy on the outside I truly believe one is happy and at peace in one's heart. Today I had the personal displeasure to attend two funerals.  (If you count the Grammys last night, I also attended one mass wedding-I think there is a movie in there!) It was a sorrowful morning celebrating the lives of two people in two stages of their lives. 

The services couldn't have been more different, but were strangely similar.  The first was for my great Aunt.  She was in her nineties and had made her peace with the earthly life.  She was and had been ready to pass on for some time.  Her service was a traditional Catholic funeral mass.  Her casket was draped by my mom and by her sister with the tradional white cloth that signifies the deceased life in Christ, it was sprinkled with holy water in remembrance of baptism, and a crucifix was placed upon the casket. There were bible readings and prayers and the holy communion. The familiar and predictable was a comfort. The priest gave his homily about the unknown of the next world and the comfort in the known of the earthly world, but that the true joy and celebration comes from entering the Kingdom of God. The church was peaceful in its simple architecture.  The participants were few in number and close in heart.  When you outlive nearly all your seven siblings and their spouses, there aren't many left to attend your final celebration. My Aunt worked all her life in the accounting department of several companies. She cared for her nieces and nephews although she didn't have children of her own.  She was stoic and resolute, but wanted only the absolute best for you and from you. In the last few years, my youngest visited her often and he always left her with a kiss.  It was in these brief moments that her heart was bare and open. I saw her in a different light; she simply relished being loved by another human being. In some ways, I'm very much like her.  I keep people at a distance and I have firm ideas of what works and what doesn't_but when I am kissed and hugged by my children I relish the love that washes over me.  It is in that moment that I have no doubts, no fear, and no regrets. 

The second funeral was for an employee's father.  She is so young and has a one year old daughter. Her father was a military man and had a great love of his country and his family.  I think of all the milestones he will miss, and I know how grateful my young employee must be that her daddy was able to dance with her at her wedding and to see his first grandchild. His service was not based in a religion but based in a faith in God and the everlasting Kingdom.  There were no familiar sequence of events to to bring peace to the difficult time.  She struggled to remain collected.  When the time came she gave a moving euology of her dad_her hero_and found the humor her dad had taught her to find in difficult situations. She reflected on all she had learned from him_most notably the flexibility to find happiness and opportunity in all that life dishes out. I never met him, but he has a terrifically smart and kind daughter who most obviously grew under her father's tutelage.  His service was attended by so many that there was an overflow room, and yet it was still standing room only.  He was a member of the Patriot Guard Riders. At the invitation of the family, the group attends the funeral of military, police, and fire service men and women.  Although not a requirement, the majority of them are motorcycle riders.  His colleagues attended in full force. The rooms were over flowing with leather chaps and vests, do-rags, steel tipped boots and military regalia. These men and women rode their motor bikes in the sub freezing weather to honor their deceased ride captain.  For at least an hour, they created a path from the parking lot to the front door lined with men and women standing at attention. Inside, there were at least 25 or more riders.  The chapel was full of Patriot Guard Riders and Combat Veterns Motorcycle Association members. These are tough men and women with very tender hearts. The rooms were also over flowing with tears. Tears at the loss each one of us felt. 

Her dad was about the age of my grandfather when he passed away_also far too young with so many milestones ahead of him.  His service reminded me of everything and everyone that has left me during my adulthood. My Aunt was ready to go on. My employees dad wanted to stay. My Aunt struggled for so long in uncomfortable health. My Grandmother passed so quickly that I was not prepared., but she did not suffer in pain for long.  My employee was devastated by the loss of her dad.  Her dad was strong; she is strong; my Aunt was very strong and my Grandmother was strong. I know I am strong although at times I wonder if I can do it all. 

We all will find the pleasure in life again, both earthly and heavenly. In the last five months, I have attended four funerals.  I can honestly say, I'm done.  I am weary. I seek the refuge of funny happenstance and the joy of the simple. In this journey of life, we rarely get what we want.  But we must be strong enough to fight on in the face of adversity and flexible enough to be open to the possibilities before us. May all the angels in heaven watch over us, both the experienced and the new.