Yesterday I attended a funeral service for someone I didn't really know. We were peers in high school, he was a year ahead of me. I however know his sister pretty well. She is the same age as my niece and I used to take them all over the place with me. Yesterday a few of us gathered here at my house and one of my "nieces" (all of my actual niece's friends call me Aunt Beck) drove us over to the funeral home.
I was incredibly sad for this family who has suffered tremendous loss in the past few years. I wasn't really grieving though. I was there in support of those who were. We walked in and sat down. There was a photo slide show of this person's life playing. It was really odd to see childhood pictures that look so much like your own, at a funeral. Then the service started, I know the Pastor who was speaking so I was paying really close attention. The pictures were playing over his shoulder. Then one came up from the deceased's second birthday. All happy and smiles blowing out that big number 2 candle.
I lost my composure instantly. For the past two weeks or so I have been working frantically to pull together a second birthday party for my girl. She has 3 weeks until her birthday but we are moving just days before so we are celebrating here with our family and friends. All I could think was his poor mother. She planned that day, that cake, bought the little 2 candle, took the pictures. She never knew that this day where she buried her son would come. It made me stop and savor the moments of these little birthday parties. While I hope I am never in this situation, I know I am not immune. Death doesn't seem to discriminate. Much like this mom, I have never considered for a moment that one day I would have to say good bye like this.
I came home and I sobbed.
Today I am grateful that so far I have been able to really cherish the moments with my girl and that as stressful as this party has been with all the moving that I went ahead with it.
May you be blessed with some special moment in these days that pass too quickly.
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