From Life to Death to Life
The layers of sorrow and joy.
How do I begin to describe the past ten days? When you lose a loved one, everything about your normal life stops, even as the rest of the world keeps spinning around you.
On Thursday, April 10, my dear mother-in-law, Joyce, went to be with Jesus. After several months of deteriorating health and mobility, she was ready to be free of her earthly body. We are relieved that she is no longer suffering and in pain, but the end came abruptly. We are still processing the events of the past ten days and will continue to do so for the foreseeable future.
Despite having little time to prepare, we realized God’s timing was perfect. “Mom” had suffered long enough. Also, our kids had already planned to be home last weekend so they could easily arrange their work and travel around the funeral. Tom and I took time off or rescheduled our work obligations so that we were able to devote our full attention to Mom’s memorial service on Tuesday. We helped his siblings make arrangements, planned a luncheon, compiled a slide show of old pictures, printed a program for the service, and wrote and delivered a eulogy.
Although the service had a few minor glitches—including a couple of lively great-grandchildren 😉—many have told us it was a beautiful tribute, and that they enjoyed hearing the stories of, and reflections on Joyce’s life.
Our kids all headed back home on Tuesday evening and Wednesday morning, and Tom and I focused our energy on Mom’s house and belongings in Lafayette.
Wednesday was our 37th wedding anniversary, so after a long day of organizing household items, we celebrated with a special dinner at “9 Irish Brothers.”
On Thursday, we worked remotely at our jobs, and in the evening accomplished more around the house.
Good Friday coincided with our youngest’s 26th birthday, so after another long day of sorting and cleaning, we went to church and then called Chloe to wish her a happy birthday.
Saturday morning, we rented a U-Haul trailer which Tom and our nephew filled with bookshelves, a chest of drawers, and a couple of special chairs, plus boxes of other useful or sentimental items for us and our children.
During the week we had remembered the past and began to imagine a future without Mom. We sorted through yellowed photographs and laughed at memorabilia; held super-soft baby sweaters we’d found tucked into the cedar chest; carefully handled Hummel figurines and antique hand-painted tea cups; met with an estate sale representative and a realtor; and shifted flower arrangements from one table to another so we could sit and grab a bite to eat—i.e. leftover funeral luncheon sandwiches and pasta salad.
We kept busy, pouring much energy into cleaning and sorting. Since we didn’t know when we’d have several uninterrupted days again—and the work had to be done—we used our time wisely. Being busy also kept our feelings of sadness at bay.
I’m not sure we’ve had a chance to fully grieve. And that’s okay. Having been through this with my parents four and five years ago, I know the grief will come—often when we least expect it. Out of the blue. Around the holidays. When we put our loved one’s gold necklace on. Or when some other mundane item or occurrence triggers a memory.
Layer upon layer.
The past ten days have been layered with sorrow and joy. Two funerals (Tom’s mom’s and also my dear aunt’s), a bridal shower (for my niece), our anniversary, a birthday, Good Friday, and finally, Easter Sunday.
With Joyce’s death and funeral superimposed on Holy Week, we twice witnessed life giving in to death, and then death giving way to life. The promise of the resurrection is so poignant and needed at times like these. Without it, where is our hope found?
“For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.” (Romans 8: 38-39)
As we sang to close out Mom’s funeral,
In Christ alone, my hope is found.
May you also find that hope this Easter and hold onto it through all the days of your life.
What a beautiful tribute to your mother in law. May fond memories wrap you in comfort.
May she rest in peace and His perpetual light shine upon her. So sorry for your loss. So hard losing our parents, who we've been blessed to have with us so long! May the Hope of the resurrection bring you peace and joy during this time of sorrow.