Don’t Do This to Mom and Dad
On Thursday, we had services for my grandmother. We called her “Nanny.” Funny, that even amongst family members, people can have different names for a grandmother. My aunt, Karen (her daughter) calls her “Nanna” when referring to her in conversation with us grandkids. Karen is a sweet woman. I wish I knew her better than I do. She has two lovely boys and a kind, gentle husband who I can tell loves her very much, who I like, but I only see them once or twice a year. This year will be one of the “2x” years, because of the funeral. Death shouldn’t be the only thing that brings us together; we will see them over Christmas. It’s a shame that the two events have so closely coincided.
I was dreading Thursday, I’ll admit it. Who wouldn’t? I don’t enjoy the business of death anymore than the rest of you. On the other hand, my grandmother, as was pointed out in the memorial service, had been trapped inside what had become the prison of her mind and body over the past several years, due to Alzheimer’s. Had I any personal assurance that she had indeed trusted Christ as her Savior, her death would have honestly been a time of rejoicing. I hope that my death is a cause of rejoicing amongst my fellow believers, particularly if I am in pain; because I know that in death I will be born into ultimate Life, and be with my King, my Savior, and my God! Don’t cry for me, unless it be tears of joy, for I will be free, and only waiting for you.
But where is joy in the death of one for whom one has no such assurance? And what good is it in gathering around to remember, to deliver platitudes and false hope? It seemed a sham to me, and I felt guilty about this; it also made me think harder about the needs of the dieing around me. Death is important; we all face it – perhaps sooner than later. And Eternity is a long, long time. (more…)