Wednesday morning, November 17th, 2010, I posted this paragraph to FB:
"My Honey, Angel, Sweetheart, Confidant, and Best Friend is having breakfast with Jesus this morning....and I'm sure it's the "All You Can Eat Buffet"! We're celebrating his homegoing last night. I know he was given the "royal treatment" -- red carpet, anthems playing and choirs singing. Thanking God for His tender mercies that made this journey so sweet and precious. And, yes, WE WON!"
And now I recollect this day:
My Honey went "home" at 6:57 p.m. on November 16, 2010. Now it was the day after, and it was already time to begin the preparations for his homegoing celebration. Yes, that's what we'd do -- celebrate his life and homegoing by showing our respect for this wonderful man, with festivity and rejoicing. We asked God to guide each step we'd take in this day.
Symbolism plays such a vital role in our worship to God -- no matter what religious affiliation we may have -- our hand gestures, religious icons, candles, and other various forms of worship. And, likewise I would find so much symbolism in the decisions surrounding the preparations that followed. Our first appointment was with Hayhurst Funeral Home. Jack Hayhurst (Jackie, to me) is the owner/director, and I was his baby sitter when he was five years old. It made perfect sense -- since I took care of him -- he'd take care of my Honey's earth suit -- his body -- for a few days. My daughter, Staci, Ron's sister, Karen, and I would be there, to make the important decisions. Such peace pervaded us. There was no dread or fear -- just lighthearted discussions about this beautiful, precious man that loved, and was loved by so many. We answered all the important questions about his life, funeral desires, and then, what I most did not look forward to was selecting his casket. As Jack opened the door to the casket room, and to my surprise, my concerns were null and void. I felt complete peace once again as my eyes immediately were drawn to a cherry wood casket. We knew that it should be the one --it so represented the part of my Honey's life as a carpenter-contractor-builder, and the wood matched our kitchen cabinets at home -- the home that he restored, like so many lives he had ministered to in his life -- restoring and making something beautiful out of dysfunction and brokenness.
From there, we went to the florist -- Toni's Florist -- Toni Garner is a member of our parish and her generosity and support to our Women of the Madalene (our women's ministries group) and to our parish, once again, made perfect sense to handle the flowers. Yellow roses would be my first choice. That is what we had in our wedding 44 years ago. Since then, whatever occasion we celebrated, my Honey would always buy me yellow roses and we had yellow rose bushes in our garden area at home. Every Spring and Summer we were reminded of our love for each other when we saw the yellow roses blooming. Four yellow roses would represent our children, Larry, Staci, Ryan and Shawntel, and six smaller yellow roses would represent each of our grandchildren in the floral arrangements. And since it's Fall and the Thanksgiving season, the balance of the arrangements should include harvest colors -- oranges, reds, yellows, browns -- mixed with Fall colored leaves. Our eyes gazed at the Christmas decorations already displayed so beautifully throughout the shop. The little bird Christmas ornaments drew our attention, and we thought "how ideal it woud be to have them amidst the arrangement -- to represent our sweet, precious grandchildren". Toni wanted that to be her contribution -- five brown birds for the boys and one little hot pink bird for our one granddaughter. And the final addition, were two red hummingbirds to place on the arrangement from me -- a special representation of the hummingbird feeder that was hung just outside our bedroom window that Ron loved to watch so much.
Our final appointment of the day was with Father Jack, who we could tell, had already spent a considerable amount of time praying for just the right message to be left to our family and friends about my Honey. Ron and I were both raised in evangelical protestant families, rich with the training and love for God's Word. That was our foundation. Now, for 26 years we had been a part of the Catholic Church that rounded out who we have been and who we love now so passionately -- along with the beautiful faith community that we have come to love so deeply. We knew that those who attended the funeral would be from various religious backgrounds -- Protestant, Catholic and many in between -- but the most important objective -- would be my Honey's ultimate goal in life -- to see unity among all of God's kids. "How about Ryan (our son) opening the service?" was Father Jack's first question. "He can explain Ron's heart to see unity in the Body of Christ". Perfect. And when he asked what Old Testament reading we would like, Staci immediately responded, "Isaiah 58" -- Dad's personal mission scripture that was at the heart of his mission in life: 'And you will be called the repairer of the breach, the restorer of the streets in which to dwell."' His desire was always to be a peacemaker, restore relationships, and bring about healing in hurting lives. That is what Isaiah 58 talks about. Yes, that would be the one. Then the scripture from Psalm, Psalm 23 -- The Lord is My Shepherd scriptures -- so appropriate, because that is where he has been for many months -- lying down in green pastures, resting beside the still waters so that his body and soul would be restored. And finally, the Gospel reading that I knew was the one: John 12:24 "Truly, truly, I say to you, unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains alone; but if it dies, it bears much fruit." I know that in my Honey's graduation to heaven, the many seeds he planted into so many individuals' lives would be the fruit of this tremendous grain of wheat. And during the bringing forward of the gifts in the service, Payton, our 10-year old grandson would play the piano -- another symbol of the "bearing of fruit" -- Papa was a grand pianist and now his fruit is borne in his grandson.
It seemed everything was being orchestrated by God….and my Honey. When Staci, Mom, Karen and I went back to the funeral home to see my Honey after they had him all ready for viewing, I was expecting to shed a few tears when I would see his body. But as we walked into the viewing room, the first words I thought, "This is not Ron! He is not here!" All I saw was that earth suit that he had lived in and it was not him any longer. We knew, instantly, that he would want everyone to remember him as he was -- full of life, joy, encouragement, peace and strength. The casket would remain closed from then forward. That's the way he would want it -- besides, as someone exclaimed, "No one could get his hair perfect enough!" He always received comments about his "perfect" hairdo!
And the next day, when we had family visitation time at the funeral home, we knew our decision was the right one, as visitors came to express love and condolences, they saw a family that had been undergirded, wrapped in and bathed in God's peace -- the presence of God was there in that room. There was joy and laughter -- no sorrow -- no mourning. We really were at peace. As Psalms 16:11 states, "In Your presence is fullness of joy, at your right hand there are pleasures forevermore." The celebration indeed had begun -- in our lives, our hearts and our spirits. Deeply we have sensed the sweet presence of God throughout our faith journey -- and now, even more, realizing this joy we feel comes from that Peace -- the Prince of Peace in our lives.
