Grief

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My sister, Jan, and I made a visit to the funeral home this past week. We had jokingly referred to this impending appointment as our "field trip". Of course we knew it would be nothing like the wonderfully anticipated field trips we took in grade school, but, we did find some enjoyment and relief of tension in the sarcasm of the label.

It was odd going to a funeral home not for the sake of attending a funeral but rather for the purpose of making "arrangements." It was all very surreal. As we walked into the building and crossed the threshold, heaviness overcame us. I don't remember who said it, but one of us announced, "Well, here we are!" making an attempt to really connect with what we were doing.

Our appointment was with "Mike", the director of the facility. He greeted us with a smile and genuine warmth. Following him up a flight of stairs into a section of the building hidden from the general public, we were led into a room that was small, but comfortable. On one wall hung a display rack of brochures and notebooks filled with information and product specifications. As we took our seats at the round table, Mike initiated the conversation by asking some questions about our Mom and offered some information about how hospice care and the funeral home work closely with one another and coordinate care.

The Lord was again very present during our 2-1/2 hour meeting, as He has been on every step of this journey with our Mom. We experienced a real peace and calmness that we knew could only come from Him. My sister and I were able to talk candidly about pretty much everything, asking awkward questions about "how", "what if" and "what about." We appreciated Mike's willingness to walk us through this process and answer every question, no matter how 'tacky' it might have been.

After filling out forms, and lists of details, Mike walked us into an adjoining room. My stomach did flip flops as we entered the casket room and were given the task of choosing one for our mother. It was at this point that I began to fight back the emotion of it all. "How can this really be?" Tears began to flow at this point, and I was thankful for the strategically placed tissue box within my reach. Thankfully we didn't have to linger long as my sister and I both went directly to a lovely blue model that made us think of our mom. We knew our other sister and brother would approve as well.

As our meeting wrapped up, we were given 'parting gifts' from this field trip: a folder filled with pamphlets, checklists, prices, and 'things to consider'; a large canvas bag with the funeral home's name on it; and a garment bag and a couple of other smaller bags for jewelry, special mementos, and so forth, that we will fill and bring to the funeral home when we are needing their services.

Walking out of the funeral home we were exhausted and depleted yet comforted and assured. Not only had we faced a giant that had been looming large over our path, but we now had the support of the other entity--other than hospice--that will very much be a part of this journey.

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