I’ve just returned home from attending a memorial service for a childhood friend’s husband. Last week we buried my brother-in-law’s ashes. Y’all, I am barely into my 40s. This is not supposed to be happening. Not yet, anyway.
Of course last week was hard, but I’m still too guarded to talk about that here. (Hope you don’t mind my honesty there.)
Today got me, too. As I sat in the back of the packed chapel with two other friends from junior high in support of our dear, sweet friend, the three of us we were amazed at how well our friend and her oldest son kept it together up there in front of all of us. (We couldn’t see the rest of the family. But my friend and her oldest were brave enough to speak, and they spoke life and love. It was beautiful.)
I know they are comforted by knowing they will be reunited with their loved one in heaven. But, oh, how this must hurt. I cannot even imagine.
After the service we stood in line to hug our friend, the friend we used to have sleepovers and pool parties with, the friend who was there for those very first conversations about boys, the friend who was pregnant with us at the same time, the friend who prayed with me, and there we were, standing in line to hug her, tell her we love her and help her as she takes on the new role as Widow. Ugh.
She moved away from our area several years ago so, aside from Facebook sightings, we hadn’t seen her kids so very grown up. And they sure did look grown up. Of course we wanted to tell them that the last time we saw them they were “this tall.” But then we didn’t want to sound like those old people who say things like that. That’s when my friend in line with me said she felt like she was not a grown-up, but just pretending to be one. And that is exactly how it felt. Because we cannot really be at this point in our lives just yet. He cannot be gone. She cannot be a widow. But we are. He is. And she is. His is gone and now healthy, triumphing beyond cancer and rejoicing with our Savior in Heaven.
I admire my friend. I love her too. And my heart goes out for her and all those who have lost someone special to them. It’s so so very hard. I bet they, at times, feel like they are pretending to be a grown-up, too. I know I do.
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