Today there was a funeral.
We sang about the City of Light ‘mid the Stars.
And about Glad Voices Lifted in Triumph on High.
We sang about being anchored in the Haven of Rest,
And about All the Way My Savior Leads Me.
We laughed. We cried.
We listened. We prayed.
We cooked. We visited.
We ate. We cleaned up.
We went home again.
And all the while, I thought about that Daddy of mine, safely home, there in that City of Light. I wondered if it seemed to him but a minute before he turned and saw Daniel and Ivan and Ethel and Uncle John and now Val.
“Lift your glad voices, in triumph on high
For Jesus hath risen, and man shall not die. . .”
Tonight I struggle to reconcile this revisited grief with the intrinsic belief that these words are true. I believe in Heaven, and I believe Daddy is there. But there is something to be said about death, too, as we know it. Right now, the reality of death is more experiential than that City of Light.
No one panic. I am not losing my faith. I believe more than ever that Heaven is a real place, and that Daddy is there — But I miss him intensely as we pass off yet another hand into the hand of the Father. . . and I realize that this person who so lately spoke and laughed and walked with us, now is in the presence of The Father. And Daddy is there.
What a comforting thought!