There's something that happens to the human soul when a family member dies. There is a part of you that has disappeared and you know it can never be replaced. But you have to do your best to somehow move on in this world that hasn't even stopped turning for your loss. Allow me to share my story, from the eyes of a distant niece.
On November 24th at 2:25am, my uncle Bernie passed away. He bravely fought cancer for two years and Jesus came to take him home earlier than any of us expected, but I suppose Jesus was too excited for such a jolly good man to be with him that he just couldn't wait any longer!
Uncle Bernie lived in Canada, where my brother and I lived for 8 months. We are insanely close to his sons, so we happened to come over every single Saturday, Monday or Tuesday, and Thursday--on average, 3 days a week, to hang out with them! We loved coming over, and my aunt would cook up that farmer sausage lasagna, which was probably a recipe she borrowed from the kitchens of heaven. We would eat with our cousins' whole family and so we got to know Uncle Bernie really well. One thing I will always remember about him was the way he let out a hefty chuckle that made his whole belly shake every time he told a joke! I am so thankful that God wanted us to live in Canada during that time, because then I wouldn't know just how great of an uncle I really had.
Because of his passing, my whole family quickly packed our bags and drove 25 hours straight through the night to be with his family and see him at the funeral. The drive was totally worth it, to be able to hug my cousins so tightly that it felt like I could hold some of their breaking pieces together. I could be there for them in person and do my best to make them smile and laugh at least for a moment.
On the day of his funeral, it happened to be Thanksgiving for the Americans. This holiday is a big deal for most of us, and so it was a very strange experience to have it in Canada at a funeral. But, as I sat there and listened to uncle Bernie's sons and daughters speak about him, I realized how thankful I really was to have known him. I cried so hard listening to their words and watching them naturally break down. And so Thanksgiving was painfully and yet preciously spent.
I will never forget the sight of the burial afterward. I stood there in a foot or two of the fluffiest snow I've ever seen. It glittered at me, and fell off the evergreen trees in slow motion. My breath flowed unevenly from my mouth as I cried watching my cousins and aunt take flowers from uncle Bernie's casket before lowering him down. I was allowed to take a flower of my own, so I mustered up my courage and stepped out to take the beautiful red flower that had my attention all afternoon long. Uncle Bernie gave me that flower, at least that's what I told myself, and I clung to it the rest of the night.
Being back home now and thinking over all the things (and yes, with the flower by my side) that have happened in only a week has brought back to my attention a powerful song that has helped me mull over the loss of my irreplaceable uncle. If you've ever lost a family member and are still hurting from it, pay attention to these lyrics because they can help put in perspective for you what death really is:
I'm still a young man so I think very little of death,
but who really does till it's coming for them?
And I know with each breath I come one closer,
but death is just a hook behind the door where I'll leave my dirty clothes
They may dump my body in the sea
or spread my ashes miles wide, but it won't matter,
all my parts will realign
They will rush to find each other when they hear their Lover's cry
and death will be abandoned when He comes back for His bride
Saints are never buried,
they are seeds planted who bring about a greater harvest
when they burst forth from the earth that needed their fruits,
but it could never hope to make enough room for their roots
Death is swallowed up,
it owns nothing in me
Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of His faithful ones
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