2001-07-06 - 20:33 MDT

THE WONDERING JEW

A Lady She Was

A wife, a Mother, and a good friend has gone. Today we respectfully and reverently buried the body she wore in life.

She never vied for the limelight, stuck by her man, raised their children and helped others, unobtrusively. A woman who never said a bad word about anybody.

Figuratively, there will always be an empty chair at our table, one once occupied by her.

Heather and I have seen our elders die, and now we note that our contemporaries are leaving one by one. Rather sobering, that. Giving us the determination to enjoy every minute of the rest of our lives, while taking care that our funerals be as painless for our children as possible. Not morbid dwelling but getting ready to finalize things so that all the kids have to do is attend the services. Our Dads did that and we could see the consideration they had for us.

I can't remember the name of the author or the book, it was a story of the westward trek across America by a group of families. Mrs. Jones died while the group was traversing the empty land. They did what they could, cobbled a coffin, the women cleaned her up, dressed her in her best, a grave was dug while someone made a cross from precious wood. She was put in the grave, a man read appropriate passages from the Bible, a few hymns were sung and then the grave was filled with the cross at the head. The leader of the group addressed them in words as near as I can remember like this, "Folks, we have a long way to go and our provisions will surely run out if we tarry. We cared for her, prayed over her, sung over her and covered over her. Now come morning we must move on."

Words come hard tonight, but must be grated out with difficulty. Heather and I are worried about her husband, Heather's brother and how he will do. He commented that he had some decisions to make, but said little else today at the meal after the funeral.

But one thing for sure, A Lady She Was . . . . . .

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