Journal of a Living Lady #245

 

Nancy White Kelly

 

In less than a week, Buddy and I have attended three funerals or memorial services for friends. The calendar is winding down, or perhaps the clock, for two more friends and those are the presumed “knowns.” There is always that proverbial bus that may hit any of us out of the blue.

 

Seven years ago my cancer recurred with a fury and nobody would have gambled on the odds of my being here today. Hospice was great for a while, but thanks, but no thanks. I convinced myself that God wasn’t ready. He had more for me to do. He did.

 

This column makes it to print occasionally in spite of external obstacles. It has opened many doors of opportunity to talk with strangers almost daily. Notoriety of a good kind follows me.  The most interesting experience occurred when I was in Jerusalem a couple of years ago. A clerk remarked that she knew me from somewhere. Sure enough, she had read this column because a friend had sent her clippings. She even had my book.

 

Because this column is on the web, I have made many friends whom I have never met personally. Many are in the battle with cancer themselves. It doesn’t take long for a bond to form. Most of those Internet friends live for another day. Some don’t.  It hurts me when someone I have communicated with almost daily passes away. I was asked to give a eulogy for one of those email friends though I’d never laid eyes on her personally.

 

Funerals are inevitable. Will Rogers once said, tongue in cheek, “If you don’t attend the funerals of others, they won’t come to yours.” That is hardly my motive to attend. Paying respect to the life of another is the proper thing to do. It doesn’t have to be a morbid affair. I want the Hallelujah Chorus sung at mine

 

Cremation seems to be growing increasingly popular. Neither Buddy nor I want to be cremated. When God creates a new body for us in heaven, I would think he’d like more DNA to work from than mere ashes. Of course, that is foolish human thinking. God knew each of us before we were born. Check out Jeremiah 1:5. If He started each of us with a microscopic egg, then ashes shouldn’t present a problem.

 

Will our friends and love ones be recognized in heaven? I think so. More importantly, I think the Bible teaches that. This isn’t a Sunday School lesson, so I won’t drown you in scripture, but it is there. Heaven wouldn’t be so wonderful if we didn’t know one another. I can hardly wait to hug my mother, my father, my blessed grandmother, and a host of friends.

 

I have some questions to ask too. Where did you come from, God? Of course, He just existed, but my finite mind has difficulty grasping an entity without beginning or end. But I exist. Why is it such a stretch to believe that God exists?

 

I have a problem with the idea that an educated person has to hang up his or her intellect when they enter the church doors. The mind and heart aren’t mutually exclusive. I believe the Bible with all my heart and mind. My mind tells me that death comes to us all. The faith of my heart tells me that death isn’t the end.

 

So, I will continue to attend funerals until it is time for my own.  The formality brings closure to one part of life and inspires hope for the next.

 

nancyk@alltel.net