K & E

 we waited in line at the funeral home, 

quiet, respectful, 

speaking in whispers. 

it was close to the end of the visitation,

i could only imagine how exhausted and drained 

she must feel after losing her husband to Covid so suddenly, 

and then having to speak to 

all these people for

several hours straight. 

nate held my hand, as we breathed behind our masks, 

his was plain black,

 mine had little blue and white flowers. 

the line was slow, but it slowly inched forward. 

we watched the screen floating above our heads 

flash colorful pictures of a man 

who lived a joyful life, 

his gorgeous wife by his side.. 

full of travels and boat rides 

and European suns,

piloting planes, and 

delicious dinners with friends. 

There were pictures of a 

pile of brothers, 

arms linked, 

shoulders touching..

there were black and white photos of him 

as a boy, 

a cheeky grin on his face. 

i loved looking at the board propped, 

with actual photos taped to it, 

small snapshots of his life, 

who he spent it with, 

and the joy that seemed to permeate off of 

each photo. 

i tried to imagine how she must feel. 

the weight of losing her best friend. 

the love of her life for 34 years. 

her family. 

did she feel lonely?

unbearable sad? 

helpless?

i got glimpses of her, 

standing strong. lovely.

and full of grace and dignity. 

I thought there might be a coldness, 

a protective wall around her, and i 

would not blame her. 

but there she was, 

warm and unbelievably soft. 

we finally made it to her, 

nervous and unsure, 

what to say, 

how do we offer our grief over her 

tremendous loss?

and yet. 

she greeted us. 

she embraced us like

long lost friends even though it had been a 

lifetime ago 

since we last spoke with her over the 

guidance and purchase of our 

first house. 

she was the one who had held our hands, 

as we made our way into adulthood in 

 over 13 years ago. 

and now, we reuinte. 

over the passing of her dear husband. 

there was the glory of the Lord in her eyes, 

i could not stop staring. 

she was beautiful. 

radiating. 

she held both of us, 

her arms outstretched as if 

we were there to receive, rather than 

humbly give

she was experiencing loss, and yet 

she ministered 

to us. 

she spoke of the goodness of God, 

His faithfulness, 

she stood there unwavering and quietly confident 

that the Lord was still good.

i was so deeply moved at how she 

carried herself, 

spoke with us so intimately and openly, 

shared in the sorrow of her loss, 

and yet sharing in the 

unswerving hope 

she has in Jesus. 

this to me, right here, 

was holy ground. 

this was a standing stone of 

Christ on display, 

these are the moments that help 

strengthen my 

faith in Jesus. 

in loss. 

in death. 

in pain. 

sorrow and despair. 

He is there. 

He is present. 

He holds the widow tight.

He never leaves or forsakes. 

He is present unto death. 

and He gives life for those who lean 

on Him. 

thank you, K 

for this precious, precious gift 

i will not soon forget. 

may Christ go with you, 

and beside you, 

may He hem you in 

His perfect love. 

rest in peace, EH, 1962-2020

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