Unfamiliar

I’ve been told that I’m an oddity in this world because I am unfamiliar with death. In the four decades I’ve been on this planet, I’ve been to the following funerals, in the order they happened…

My Great-grandfather.

That’s it. Seriously. My great-grandfather passed away when I was very young, and I barely remember it. That, besides an occasional passing of a pet, have been my only dealings with death. Until this past weekend.

My great-aunt, Syble, was 93 years old. She has been the closest thing to a grand-mother that I’ve had on my father’s side of the family. She has always been there for me, and is one of the sweetest persons I have ever met.

She had been ill for some time and was in the hospital. On Friday she became unresponsive and I left San Antonio in a hurry. It’s an 8 hour drive to El Dorado, Arkansas, and a lot of things should have gone through my mind, but I didn’t know what to expect, for I am unfamiliar with death.

I arrived at a cousin's home where there should have been at least ten relatives waiting, but instead I found an eerie stillness. Everyone was gone. I knew that didn’t bode well, so I went straight to the hospital. I arrived 15 minutes later to find that I was too late; Syble was gone.

I went to the waiting room where a lot of family waited. The tears flowed from everyone, including me. We were allowed to go into Syble’s room, and it’s hard to describe what I felt. There, on the bed was the woman that had spent hours telling me family stories, who had always baked a chocolate pie for me every time I came to visit, and had always loved me unconditionally. She looked frail. The end had taken its toll on her. She had simply had enough. It’s hard to put into words, because I am unfamiliar with death.

The next few days were spent hugging on family. We all told stories about Syble, and hugged each other some more. Friends came by with food. Lots of food. Eating is nature’s way of comforting us.

The funeral was difficult. Walking past her open casket for the last time I realized that it would be the last time I would ever see her, and the tears came once again. I wasn’t prepared for the range of emotions I felt, because I am unfamiliar with death.

I helped carry the casket to the grave site, and after a few words were spoken by the pastor, and people cried and hugged, we all left, leaving the funeral folks to finish their work. My family all met at a cousin's home and once again consoled each other. Some were saying that it was ok, because we would see Syble again in Heaven. That didn’t fill the void in my heart though, because she wasn’t there now.

Today as I left for home I stopped by the cemetery. The casket had been put in the ground, and it seemed like the loneliest place on Earth. How could we leave her there, so all alone?

The answer is in my faith. You see, leaving these bodies behind is just the beginning of a new life with Christ. Syble no longer feels pain, or gasps for breath. She has a new body and a new existence at the side of our Lord and Savior. There is no reason for me to be sad, and in fact I’m a little jealous that Syble is there with Him now. I’m happy for her, even in my grief.

Yes, I am unfamiliar with death, because Jesus broke the bonds of death, and now we have everlasting life.

"God, thank you for letting me be part of Syble's life while she was here. Please take care of her until I get there. I know she has more stories to tell me. Thanks."