January 9th, 2009

Today Jon and I had the fortune of attending the funeral of Christine Palmer, mother of our good friend David. It was the third funeral I have ever been to, and the one I was most removed from.

I think I had met Chris once or twice in passing, always at O'Gradys in P-ville. Jon's dad played the organ at their wedding, and they have several connections to our family through church and through Eastern College. As our time with David and Susannah as a couple have been limited, since they live in Brooklyn, we never got the chance to know Chris beyond a name mentioned or a story told.

I wish we had.

The funeral began at 10:30 and lasted until around 1:15, only cut short because funerals cannot go on forever. The church was quite full and many people got the opportunity to speak their piece about Mrs. Palmer. She was a math teacher for 30 years and a youth director for quite some time. She was extremely active in church and touched a great many lives. Everyone noted her compassion, her intellect, her intuition, her servant's heart, and her passion for fath, love, and giving. Though we have never known Chris, we can see her in David because he embodies the very things that his mother was in her lifetime. It was impressive to see what an impact she made on those around her. I can only say that one who is loved so much is only that way because they themselves have loved in abundance. I am glad we were able to honor her today be attending.

I cried. A lot. In fact, it was hard to keep it together as much as I did. Seeing David and Sus so sad was heartbreaking. Yet, everyone dies. It is a fact of life, and not one that makes me particularly sad. I realize that death is only sad for the living, and that Chris is full of joy now. Seeing her body in the casket was seeing just a shell. I am affirmed over and over again that we are not our bodies, though we temporarly use them as a vehicle. Our true selves are spirit.

I am also reminded that we always want our parents. We want to see them as perfect, we always want to count on them. We always want them close, whether we realize it or not. Whether we are 3 and have a boo-boo or 30 and need advice on our own child... whether we are 50 and fully capable of making our own decisions or 80 and wondering at the great beyond.

Though you may not think so, I believe this structure has been put into place to remind us of how God wants to be close to his children, and how we always ache for something more. Throwing all religious rhetoric out the window, ignoring all different factions and sects and dominations, I think this is a fundamental truth of all beliefs. We want to be near to our maker, as our maker wants to be near to us.

I say it was our fortune to attend the service today not only to celebrate the lives Chris touched, but to remember something that I am absolutely sure that she would agree with: God wants us, and we want God. Whether on the surface we know that or not, our spirit, our true selves, knows it.

And so death is a brief parting in the grand scheme of things.... she has returned to her maker, as her soul wanted to do, as we will all do some day. Reunited. Together.