Life is...An Obituary

 Life is...An Obituary

My Gma would have been 87 years old today. Sometimes I write as the emotions hit me. Sometimes I need to process in order to write.

My Gma died almost a month ago. I could share a million memories, but I'm not sure they would matter to you.

An obituary is fine but is so incomplete. Here is what I would say about my Gma.

1 Corinthians 13:13 was read at her funeral..."And now these three remain: faith, hope, and love. But the greatest of these is love."

My Gma lived out FAITH, HOPE, and LOVE.

And I would add JOY.

They weren't just words that she didn't put into action. She lived them out to show their purpose and their power.

Even during her last months, during a worldwide pandemic, she was teaching me. 

Here's what I learned through her Actions...

1. Even when I'm confused, scared, and hurting I want to be someone others want to be around. Someone who exemplifies JOY and HOPE.

2. Even during a pandemic of fear Gma showed LOVE and FAITH. She said but also showed that LOVE drives out Fear!

There is a great song by Kari Jobe "The Blessing" 

"May His favor be upon you
And a thousand generations
And your family and your children
And their children, and their children

In your coming, and your going
In your weeping, and rejoicing
He is for you, He is for you"

I feel comforted during the weeping and thankful for the amazing blessing that has come to me, because of the FAITH, HOPE, LOVE, and JOY from previous generations. 

May we continue it on to be a blessing to others.

Life is...Waiting 4 Death

Life is...Waiting 4 Death

Just rants. Just rants. Just rants.
No checking. No filter. No censoring. No...

Just pure emotion. Pure heartache.
Pure sadness.

Confusion.

What?
What am I supposed to do?
How do you wait?
How do you wait for someone you love to die?
How do you go on as normal?
How do you be there for them?
What is enough?
What is right?
What helps?
What?

Cry. Cry. Breakdown.
Grieving before the death.
Grieving as if death had already come.
Grief.
Pain.
Sadness.

What do I say?
Do I pretend everything is normal?
Do I breakdown?
Do I say everything I’ve said before?

Do you know?
Do you know how I feel?
Do you know how much you’ll be missed?
Do you know?

Memories
I have them.
No - it’s not enough.

Don’t say contrite things.
Don’t try to take away my sadness.
Let me be.
Let me mourn.
Let me.

It may not be right, but this is how I feel.

I love you Gma!

~Nancy Bruscher
www.GenerationsToGenerations.com
Dedicated to Capturing Memories
Blog: https://lifeisbynancy.blogspot.com

The Open Casket & the Goldfish

Life is...The Open Casket & the Goldfish

This is a very different blog for me, but I thought sharing might help others with little kids as they navigate funerals.

Last December we went to a  funeral of a dear friend. It was an open casket. Now David had been to several funerals before but not seen this. In the past we were able to steer him away from seeing the body, but this time his very good friend said he wanted to show him his grandpa. So David took his hand and went up the aisle. I went with him. It seemed to go fine. The two, young boys stood silently for a while and then went back up the aisle into the lobby.

Then David came to me and said, "I thought you told me he was in heaven!" He was very upset.

I sat him on my lap and tried to explain that it was just his body that was here. That his soul was in heaven.

He seemed to take that for a while, but over the next weeks the questions came daily.
-What is a soul?
-Where is it?
-How does it get out?
-What happens to the body?

Such hard, deep questions for a five-year-old.

I felt like I was not getting through to him. I felt like I had broken him. He said he never wanted to see anything like that again. My heart was breaking as he was trying to figure out this part of life.

Finally I thought we had made progress. He seemed to understand that the body stays here, but the soul goes to heaven. He hadn't talked about it for a week, but then on the way home from skiing the questions came back.
This time it was...I don't want to die, because I don't want my body to explode when my soul leaves.

Oh, poor boy, No, it doesn't explode.

I tried to explain, but it wasn't getting through.

He asked, "Why do people have funerals? Why do they have open caskets?"

I tried to explain again, but it didn't help.

It was just him and I in the car driving on I-70. I prayed for words to reach a 5-year-old's heart.

A few minutes later it came to me.

I said, "Do you remember when your goldfish died? His body wasn't broken. He was still whole."
This seemed to be making sense to him.
I continued, "Remember before I buried him you wanted to say goodbye. You looked at your goldfish and told him you loved him and would miss him."
Yes, he did. I explained that it's the same for a funeral. It is a way for people to say goodbye.

For David this was the lightbulb. He understood and was able to move on. The questions were able to cease, and he had the answers he needed. For now.

Follow my blog by entering your email on the left. Thanks!