"Jacob...Poppa Tom died..."
"Jacob...Marianne died in her sleep."
"Jacob...Memaw passed away this morning."
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| Photo Courtesy: Alberto Lauretti |
This morning I received the phone call that no one really wants to receive, that no one ever really seems prepared for. Even when a death is expected, it's still a shock. Ever since college I've been getting phone calls like that. I know deaths have happened in our family before then, but they never seemed personal until I was on my own and I had to deal with the news by myself.
There is always that dreadful, weighty, and interminable pause. You can almost sense that this phone call is different than all the others you've received before. There is always the attempt to break the news in a way that divulges information yet preserves the dignity of the individual and protects the emotions of the hearer. "Died" seems so harsh at times so we soften the blow with "we lost him," "she went to sleep," "they passed away," "he went home to be with Jesus." It all means the same thing, but somehow it makes things easier to swallow.
And what do you say in a moment like that? How do you respond? "I'm sorry" seems to be the most common thing that comes to mind, but it just never seems to cut it. "Ok" feels less than human and devoid of emotion. You certainly can't say, "Oh good!" - at least not out loud. Surely even the most awful people deserve a little sympathy......Right?
Then there is the flood of emotion. First come waves of grief that practically bring you to your knees in sorrow. No one looks forward to the death of a loved one. Subsequent waves of guilt and denial are soon to follow. In the case of an extended illness, perhaps even a bit of relief from the stressful role of caretaker sneaks its way into your mind.
This time, however, it's different. For me, the relative is not by blood but by marriage. At times I feel overwhelmed in the same flood of emotion for the loss of a loved one. I want to cling tightly to each member of my extended family to show them my love and support during this time of sadness. I want to be strong and brave for my wife, yet at the same time empathetic and gentle. But other times I feel almost like an outsider, looking in and observing the grieving process of a family that is not entirely my own. I feel the sharp pain of Memaw's death because she reminded me so much of my own grandmothers - each in their own way. But at the same time, there is not nearly so great a hole left in my heart as there is in Beth and her family. Blood ties more deeply than marriage.
Torn between feeling like both an insider and outsider, it has allowed me the opportunity to think about death from a new perspective. Before I just felt the emotions of grieving. Now I realize that while those emotions are a normal, natural, and healthy part of the process, I must move past those emotions to the question that everyone asks in the event of a death. What happens when you die? Is death the end?
Death is not the end. Each time I experience loss I am reminded that there was one Man who died and didn't stay dead. He returned to life. He is Jesus Christ. He died the perfect, substitutionary death for all who would believe in Him as Lord and Savior. He made a way for life where there was no way but death. While we were dead in our sins, God made us alive in Christ.
Lois Tisdale: Daughter, Sister, Friend, Wife, Mother, Aunt, Memaw - you were so many things to so many people. You are loved and cherished. You are grieved and mourned by those who remain here on this earth, our temporary home. But we also rejoice in death because death has lost its sting! Death has lost its victory! While we may weep and groan, longing for heaven and home, mostly we are jealous. We are every bit of green with envy for you have gotten that sweet reward of a life lived faithfully in service and worship of the King of Kings. You have gotten to taste the riches of heaven and we must continue to wait. We remain here, if only for a little while, until physical death or the return of King Jesus calls us to our heavenly home. "Come, Lord Jesus!"
That you might know Christ,
1 comment:
Thank you for sharing. Not to many people in your position are so gracious. Your article was very poignant and understandable. It helped me to understand very clearly. Thank you for your help.
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