On January 19th tears filled my eyes as the nurse plugged me up to the heart monitor. I held on to Marcus’ hand in search of some comfort. I watched with fear as the nurse put the IV in my arm, and tears filled my eyes again.
I was hoping to make it through life without ever having to be put to sleep, but thanks to four very disobedient wisdom teeth, that hope was crushed. The procedure only took 2 minutes, or so it seemed. I woke up and found them disconnecting me from the monitors. I searched for Marcus, and tears filled my eyes when I didn’t see him. I needed his comfort! A few minutes later he walked into the room. His presence made me smile. I was fine now.
Marcus took me home and made me something to eat. While I ate and drooled all over my shirt, he said “Babe, grandma died”. Tears... Again! He was a bit surprised at my reaction and then he said, “No babe, my other grandma, you haven’t met her.” I felt a bit confused. How do you just suddenly stop crying for one grandma and figure out what to do for the other one? It felt weird to be crying for someone I’ve never met. Then my focus shifted to Marcus and his strength. He was the one that really needed the comfort today, but he gave it all to me.
Road Trip! One of our favorite things. Grandma Rosa was from South Carolina and we took the drive down on Sunday Morning for her funeral on Monday. While we drove Marcus introduced me to Grandma Rosa. He told me stories about his life growing up with her. I didn’t know what to expect from this trip. I was excited to be on the road, but also a bit timid to the idea of attending a funeral.
Our first stop on Sunday was at the funeral home. We were going to look at the body! That is such a very creepy thing to do. But I played it cool. I sat and watched family and friends stand in awe at a lifeless Rosa Lofton. Part of me expected wailing and moaning, but it was a peaceful and light experience. Some people just smiled down at her, others stroked her hair, some kissed her forehead, but all walked away from her saying “she’s absolutely beautiful!” That surprised me. This was a wrinkled old woman pumped full of embalming fluid, well, that’s all I could see. But then it occurred to me that they saw her life, their experiences with her, and the memories that will live on as she rests. WOW, How awesome.
I’m now on my way to my first funeral. Marcus gave me some code of conduct tips and a heads up of what to expect. We gathered at the family home after breakfast for pictures and to apparently wait for the limousines. Limousines for a funeral, who would have thought?
The funeral was lovely… it really was. The funerals I see on TV are usually filled with sad, crying faces and women wearing dark sunglasses. I chose to sit in the very back row of the church and observe the proceedings. Laughter, smiles, stories, all poured from those that spoke about Rosa’s life. There were moments of weakness and tears as they considered their loss, but those were quickly whisked away by some memory of her life. Rosa Lofton was a teacher, she loved fishing, and she was the fun grandma. She made great biscuits and jelly cake. Rosa Lofton touched lives. Her family shared stories about the thousands of students she impacted in her 42 years of teaching. Cousins, Nephews, Nieces, Grandkids, spoke about how Rosa helped them when they needed it most, how she changed their lives. Rosa was a simple woman but her heart made her great. I was inspired.
I never thought much about what people would say about me after I’m gone. Those who read my blog have seen my sardonic comments about coffins and funerals. They have been softened. Somewhat.
I’ve spent much of my life searching for a calling and a purpose, looking to do something grand, wondering who to help and how. Rosa has taught me to stop looking and just do. The people that need you are the people that God has put around you. Do simple things every day. These are the things that add up to a great eulogy.