The fumeral.............empty words or rich promises?

I swam in the ocean in preparation for the memorial service this morning.
I let the cold water shock me and embrace me in its tingling grip. I dived under the cresting waves and felt the release of tension as the thrumming water drove down the length of my body. I lay face down and felt the blessed caress of foam around my face in its aftermath.
I thought of Elsa
I imagined her not being there to greet me.
I missed her desperately.

I put on a pretty frock on purpose. I matched my pink lipstick to the fabric. I sprayed on my favourite perfume.

I was as ready as I was ever going to be.

The tears began as soon as I saw the other women with whom I have danced for three years. We know each other well and it was so GOOD to be hugged tightly. My nose grew red.

The time for the final farewell had come after an agonised week of introspection and evaluation.
The service was conducted in Afrikaans, Elsa's home language and although formal and correct the dominee (pastor or minister) had known our Elsa quite well and brought her personality alive.

He spoke about the seasons of one's life. He drew attention to the flower arrangement of sunflowers with their bold heads held up bravely and I was amazed by his perspicacity. He saw that flower as a reflection of who Elsa had been...... big, bright, beautiful ..... a simple, honest bloom. Her simple faith had kept her eyes on the Son of righteousness and I was comforted.

Her smallest grandchild didn't quite grasp the seriousness of the reason why we were all gathering together.

Pixabay

From the front pew she was peering backwards watching 'all these people' crowding into the church.
Suddenly she must have recognised someone she knew well and her small face lit up in a beaming smile, her eyes twinkled and she waved enthusiastically. An older cousin quickly pulled her onto her lap and whispered into her shell like small ear. The light in the child's eyes faded. I saw the sad parallel in Elsa's last hours on this earth and more tears flowed. I rest assured about eternity with our heavenly Father but the loneliness of the here and now is piercing.

Koos, her husband came and met and hugged each one of us dancers, repeated our names and told us he almost knew us as Elsa had told him so many light hearted stories about what went on in the class.
He had a special request, "would we please practise that final dance she specifically requested as she lay on the mat with the retired doctor sitting next to her, and when we were ready, he would like to come and watch it and remember her.

So this evening I am finally peaceful.
There is a great deal of truth in the word 'closure' that is bandied about these days.
When my precious grandparents died, we children stayed at home and with big eyes watched the sad adults leave the house and never understood where Grandpa and then two years later, where Granny had gone.
The dominee in Elsa's church spoke directly to all the grandchildren, specifically the two smaller ones.

Not that I am much wiser in the Autumn years of my life but what I do know is that I am comforted and very grateful to have known Elsa and will think of her fondly for as long as I am called to live on this planet.
Then who knows, I am led to entertain the thought that one day we will dance in the heavenlies to celestial music, never tiring, forever young.

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