They Didn't Tell the Box Goodbye

My great aunt Sylvia's funeral was on Wednesday. She passed away on Sunday from surgery complications at the age of 73. This was the second funeral I have attended in a week for a family member that I did not know as well as I wished I had. It's sad that sometimes it takes a eulogy to make you realize what an interesting and amazing person someone was. It makes me wish for earlier times when people spent their free time visiting and getting to know each other...and learning from those older and wiser. My great aunt Sylvia was a strong Christian lady. I knew she went to church and assumed she knew Jesus, but now hearing her life read out loud I wish I had known more about her and her deep love for Him. How much I could have learned if I had visited with her over the years aside from the annual family Christmas party.

Her funeral was one of the nicest I have ever attended. Before she went into surgery she knew she might not make it, and she was ok with that because "she knew where she was going". And we knew where she was, so our tears were not for her, but for ourselves. For me, I will never get to ask her about her faith and her Christian walk. Her grandchildren won't have any more earthly hugs and kisses. Her kids won't have her physical presence to comfort them as only a mother can. Her husband of 50 years no longer has his other half in this life. We were most definitely sad. Sad because we missed her, and for me, sad because of what I had missed. But joyous because we knew that she was being welcomed into the presence of the Lord to rest with Him eternally. We could not ask for more than that.

The faith of her immediate family was demonstrated throughout the service in many ways - the acappella singing of "I'll Fly Away" by her daughters-in-law and granddaughters, the acappella singing of "I Will Rise" by her oldest granddaughter, the remarks themselves about Sylvia's life, the heads nodding in agreement at the mention of God's love for the world shown to us through the life, death and resurrection of His son, Jesus Christ.

For me, the strongest demonstration of their faith came at the conclusion of the burial. After the pastors gave their condolences and the family rose to walk away, not a single one told the box goodbye. Not her husband. Not her kids. Not her grandkids. They stood, wiped their tears, and walked away. Off to share a meal together and reminisce about the life of a wonderful woman. They knew she was in heaven with her Lord...not in the box. I don't know why it struck me the way that it did, but it did. I just thought it was such a beautiful symbolic showing of trust in our Lord. I doubt any of them gave it a second thought, or that it was intentional....which makes it all the more genuine.

I have told the box goodbye plenty of times, knowing full well that was just for myself and the person was no longer there. I think in the future I will instead bow my head and thank God for the life of my loved one, for His son Jesus and for the chance to spend eternity with Him...and just let the box be a box.