Painful Privilege

This is going to be a tough one.

A member of our congregation passed away this morning. I was called and was able to be with the family for most of the day as the shock of such a sudden loss began to sink in.

Almost a year ago, I conducted a funeral for another much-loved gentleman, also an important member of our faith family, who had died suddenly leaving that surreal feeling for everyone who mourned (and continue to mourn) his loss. That was a terribly hard funeral to conduct, because I knew how much I would miss this wonderful man. But I can keep it together and be professional.That is my call and vocation. I do my grieving on my own time.

The gentleman who died this morning has known me literally my entire life. His surviving wife was one of my Mother's dearest friends. We lived across the street from one another for years. He was one of very few people in my life who ever called me "Susie" and got away with it. :)

And now he's gone.

I will conduct his memorial service early next week and I will experience profoundly the privilege of being on such holy ground with his grieving family, just as I did a year ago. It is indeed, a deep and powerful gift to be asked to honour someone's life in worship. When that person feels like family, both the privilege of it and the pain of it run that much deeper. This is a life to be celebrated for its richness, grace and faith. His family is comforted today knowing that in some Mysterious way that none of us really understands, he is at peace and is in the presence and power of Holy Love, the Source of all goodness.

So, at the service, I will keep it together through the remembrances and celebrations of his life, through the hymns and the choir anthem, the homily and the prayers. After the committal and the luncheon I will go home.

And I'll need to be alone for awhile. Not for long, because that isn't how he would want it.

But I will need to find my own way to say goodbye....in a way that is not liturgical, but personal.