I've mentioned several times that I attended a funeral in the past week.
It was my sister's fiance's grandmother. I had met her a few times, on occasions when our two families mingled. I admit I can't say I knew her, however. But my heart was breaking for those who did. I saw such genuine expressions of love and grief. The priest who led it had known her for thirty years and wasn't unaffected. Her sons and one of her granddaughter's spoke. I definitely cried. There was definitely a sense of hope. She was a believer, and her hope was in Christ, where she is now. I saw the family come together, and endure lots of pain. I saw my sister be a rock, and a literal shoulder for her fiance to lean on.
Considering I also went to two weddings, I couldn't help but compare the two events. The center of both is love. There is ceremony to both, and of course, a large theme is family. It sent my mind down some fairly deep paths... and I'm not sure I'll rehash the journey on this blog.
One of the beautiful things about the woman who died was her marriage of 53 years. Apparently her husband talked to the priest and shared that while they argued during the first few years of their marriage, they hadn't fought about anything for years, because through time and effort they had learned to effectively communicate with each other. Isn't that awesome? Is that as hope inspiring to you as to me? I'd love to have a marriage like that.
There were many beautiful things mentioned... but because of the deeply painful nature of grief, I just feel like a blow by blow retelling of the funeral would be disrespectful, even though of course disrespect would not be intended by any means. I have love for this family, which is an extension of mine (not quite yet, maybe, but considering my sister and her fiance have been together for five and a half years, there's been some blending) and I will be continuing to pray for them in their time of grief.