Family · Grief · Life


It’s the morning of Mom’s funeral and I’m lying in bed. I’ve been awake for half an hour, but I don’t want to get up. I was hoping to wake up this morning feeling, if not better, at least stronger after sleep.

Elias came in this morning sad and grouchy. He curled up against my side, insinuated his legs around mine, and stuck his thumb in his mouth. He sighed a big sigh and went back to sleep, comforted to his soul. Is it weird to envy a three-year-old boy?

A man came through the visitation line yesterday, toward the end. He’s a recent widower, and coming back to many of the same people in the same building can’t have been easy for him. I thanked him for coming and told him how much we appreciate it. “I know,” he said, and patted my hand.

If you haven’t been in that position, you maybe can’t quite know. But believe that every kind face and thoughtful act is deeply appreciated. If I haven’t said thank you yet, forgive me.

I can’t put this off any longer. I have to get up and take a shower, and gird up my loins. I am counting on the promise that God heals the broken hearted and binds up their wounds. I hope that includes propping them up a bit, too.

3 thoughts on “Mo(u)rning

  1. Dear Carol and families,We wanted so much to be with you today but couldn’t make it work. Driving 11-12 hours just didn’t fit between last night and this morning. Thankfully I was able to hear the entire service by phone, but we’re so sorry we couldn’t visit with all of the Bert & Lucy family. The congregational singing was just so Bert Gasser! and ignoring the extended holds was, too! (I think the music realm would have a better term for that.) If you took some family pictures, we would love to see them.Love, Al & Martha

  2. You and your family are in my thoughts and prayers. I cannot think of your parents without remembering each one’s love of music. Your mom sent me a note once, out of the blue, which was so loving and encouraging to me.

    My family chose congregational singing and hymns that spoke of joy in our Saviour’s gift rather than sorrow when my father died 10 years ago (Zion’s Harp # 7 & 9). Beautiful, bittersweet memories.

    God’s strength and peace to you,
    Love, Margaret

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