Here She Comes!

Today, we buried my grandmother's cremains in Iowa City, IA, next to her husband who passed 17 years ago and her father who passed when my grandmother was only nine. Can you imagine what a reunion they must be having?

This past week and a half has been especially hard on my children, ages seven and nine. This is their first experience with death. And not just death, but the rituals of family and church that are all a part of dying and death. (You should have seen my look of panic when I realized I would need to explain how Great-Gaga went from fitting in a big box to a little box. With the help of my dad, though, I think we did a good job. Only time will tell.)

I'm especially worried about my son because he has shown so little outward emotion but is clearly bothered. I hope I've made him feel comfortable to know it's okay to feel however he wants ("Even mad at God?" -- you bet!) and that I am here with a listening ear and open arms whenever he is ready and able to talk.

What I most want to share, though, is not my personal experience, but a short reflection. My dad read this at the committal service this morning. I had never heard it before, but I am so grateful that I have. I know it will remain with me, always.

     "I am standing upon the seashore. A ship at my side spreads her white sails to the morning breeze and starts for the blue ocean. She is an object of beauty and strength. I stand and watch her until at length she hangs like a speck of white cloud just where the sea and sky come to mingle with each other.

    Then someone at my side says: 'There, she is gone!'

     'Gone where?'

     Gone from my sight. That is all. She is just as large in mast and hull and spar as she was when she left my side and she is just as able to bear the load of living freight to her destined part.

      Her diminished size is in me, not in her. And just at the moment when someone at my side says: 'There, she is gone!' There are other eyes watching her coming, and other voices ready to take up the glad shout: 'Here she comes!'

     And that is dying."

-Henry Van Dyke

Having heard this, I don't think I will ever view death in quite the same light. The words have brought me great comfort. I hope that they are a solace to others grieving, too.