As I sat huddled with hundreds of strangers and friends, I felt like we were all sisters and brothers. Here to support and show our love for our siblings, friends who have become like family over the years.
I could feel the palpable love in the room. The sorrow over a missing friend, for sure. And yet love triumphed, I sensed greater affection than sadness.
As we heard of his life well-lived, I began to feel a deep respect for this man I barely knew. I admired his devotion to his family, the good father and husband he’d been for so many years. I felt disappointed to not have known him better. I appreciated his sense of humor and delight in adventure as those close to him shared stories from their lives together. I clung to their words for clues about his life and the life they’d created as a family. I tried to learn from him. The way he lived deeply and with his heart.
I reflected on the significance of family times they talked about. Vacations, hunting, fishing, biking, hiking, working. Everyday days. Driving together, dinners, holidays. I loved the pictures and videos they showed us, the music that resonated within our souls. I realized again that these are the important parts of life, this is the stuff that matters. I felt strongly that families need more of this. And that this family got it right.
Of course I was crying for this family we care about so much. I felt their heartache so poignantly. But my tears sprung up over other friends who are also struggling, just in different ways. I, like you, know so many families that have things. Big things. And I worry about them, cry about them, and wonder why and how to help.
This sweet family inspires me to draw my own family a little closer, to overlook the dumb stuff we sometimes get ruffled about, to cherish the ordinary, every days.
Todd and I were talking after a cozy after-church nap as we were making dinner for the kids; just holding each other in the kitchen he told me how much he loved me. We cry more easily these days especially when we talk about our life together and our family. The older we get, the faster time passes, the more we realize how much history we have together. He said he just can’t imagine how much stronger a couple’s love is after like 60 years together. We’re no where near that, but it’s incredible to me how much we’ve weathered and experienced and been through together as a family, as a couple. Of course there have been lots of sad and hard and frustrating times. Obviously. But we were just noting that’s why it feels so good. Because it’s all worth it. It works out. It’s made us stronger and closer over the years.
I just think weekends like these are reminders of family love. Whether it’s family living in our homes, those who share our blood, or those who simply have a piece of our hearts, those we mingle with and become close to make life worthwhile. When you pare it all down, all this grieving family could talk about was the love they shared, their cherished memories, the times they’d had together. No one once mentioned what kind of house they have, how much money they have, where they vacationed, or what he wore (although I think it was jeans every day of his life). All I really got from it all was that he cared about his family. He worked hard to provide for them. He was there for them. He shared his passions and hobbies with them. He made time for them. He fulfilled his role as dad and husband beautifully. He loved with his whole heart. It’s evident that love permeated their family and that he will continue to be a source of comfort as they move forward.
And so I’m glad I went. I’m grateful for such a tender afternoon with those I love. I’m so thankful for this family who has welcomed us into their hearts, who has taught us about the power of unconditional love and who encourages us all to hold our loved ones close.
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