Don't Wear Black! Sing Joyous Songs!

These words were among the instructions my father had written down some time ago for whenever his  funeral were to be held.

We all went to the funeral home yesterday afternoon, to the "viewing", none of us wearing pure black. As soon as we walked into the parlor, my mom and I started crying. I'm sure others did, too. Our family had an hour to pull itself together and prepare to receive other family members, friends, and acquaintances who had come to pay their respects. A lovely slide show was played continually, in a loop, showing us sides of our father  we hadn't thought of in a long time, like of when he was in the Air Force (Corps) in WW II; as a little boy; in his wedding to my mom; holding his children; working with the Indians.

When I looked at my father's body, I kept expecting to see his chest rise and fall. It didn't seem real...almost like a sculpture. That special essence that pervades a living being was gone...because my father was gone! That wasn't him anymore, just a reminder of who we had lost...and a reflection on what he had gained!

It was also a time to re-meet a number of my cousins, some of whom I hadn't seen for 25-30 years. There was one whom I hadn't seen for more like 50 years!

Then this morning...the funeral service. "How Great Thou Art"! Joyous music indeed! My father's favorite hymn. An open time for family members to share our thoughts about our father's life... half of us having to ask someone else to read what we had to say!   No way we could make it through without bawling.

A friend read the poem that I included here in the last post, "Your Hand".

 Then my PRAYER:

                            Jesus,
                            You once asked your best friend to take care of your mother.
                            I'm doing the same.
                            You are my best Friend.
                            Please grant my mother
                                          - grace in her grieving
                                          - faith in her fears
                                          - strength in her struggles
                                          -  love in her loneliness
                                          - and joy in her journey towards her own heavenly Home.

As you know, all my parents' children are here; and every one of their grandchildren, from different parts of the country, and from as far away as the Middle East, made it to the funeral. (There are even 4 great-grandchildren here!)
The mass exodus has begun, as everyone heads back to his/her home to resume a life put on hold for the
          poignant,
              precious time of tribute
                  to a great man...
                      a man much loved...
                        a man who now talks face-to-face with his Lord.
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I will continue taking you on an overview of our Journey together once we get back to Quito and settled in. Thank you for your support and prayers!