NotebookAt the funeral I was reminded of how to live life
I went through a full funeral procession last week for the first time in my life. I thought it would be depressing. It was sad. But not depressing. People cried, sure, but they also laughed, and they might have laughed more than they cried. I loved that, and even more, I loved realizing why. And I will cling to what it was that Adelaide, even in her death, inspired in my life.
Adelaide, 80, was my wife Katie's great aunt. She and her husband Earl helped raise Katie's father. As Katie grew up, Adelaide was like a third grandmother. She and her husband Earl attended as many of Katie's volleyball and basketball and softball games as they could.
Earl and Adelaide were simple country folk, possessors of no great wealth. But they had something more valuable than any number in any bank account, which they passed down to their second son, and I'm assuming the rest of their offspring as well: generosity, moreso than many millionaires.
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Jesus Christ was once asked which was God's most important commandment. One's thoughts leap to The Ten, but Jesus didn't pick from those. He picked instead from commandments that seemed at the time hidden away amid the thousands of others held by the ancient texts—what we call The Old Testament. Christ's two were never celebrated, never heralded, and rarely, if ever, preached.
"The most important one," he said, "is to love God with all your heart, soul, mind, and strength. And the second is to love others as yourself."
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At Adelaide's funeral, I saw some of the simplest, most pure affection I've ever seen for a departed soul. I wished I could have known her longer. As I got to know her through the witness of her family, I realized that all the love was all a reflection of her.
Earl and Adelaide, by their own admission, weren't "church folk." But in their home, they have a huge Bible that looks well worn. Adelaide's favorite song was "Amazing Grace." She had literally saved some people's lives.
The world tends to overlook folks like Adelaide. In all our pursuit of success and wealth and status and personal comfort, we forget the simplest things, like listening to people and believing in them. Adelaide knew that. As it was echoed by those who knew Adelaide best through the pews and into the graveyard, and as I'm sure it will echo into eternity, she knew what it was to love.
It might sound cheesy, or maybe even trite, but I hope not, and I've rewritten this next sentence a million times but just can't seem to find a better way to say it, so I'm just going to say it: I hope—for my sake, and for the sake of those I know and will meet—to learn to love like Adelaide.
Reader Comments (7)
A beautiful tribute to a wonderful lady who obviously touched many lives with kindness and laughter.
Thanks, GT.
What an inspiring story...the video posted was awesome and literally brought tears to my eyes. You truly have an awesome way with words when you write. Chris and I are so proud of all you've accomplished.
Hey Michelle, thanks for stopping by, and thanks so much for the kind words. Hope you and Chris are doing well.
I had never been to a funeral service filled with such inspiration, representing, for me at least, death in its most comforting form. To truly live a life worth celebrating, contextualized by unconditional love for all, as far as I can tell, is all we can aspire. I, like you, left wishing I had more time with such a beautiful woman, a new role model, and rejuvenated spirit.
yes....as I read and comment on all your blogs, I am procrastinating opposed to doing my own work....At least I am enjoying myself :)
Anna, haha, wow, sorry, I just realized you left this comment! Sometimes it's tough to keep up with them. But thanks for dropping by.
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