I’m in class today, but I’d rather be in New Hampshire.
A year ago today I was in New Hampshire, at my sister’s deathbed. I watched her husband and her sons weep and my parents and my siblings shed tears as we watched my sister fade into glory. She is with Jesus now. Resting and worshiping and waiting for the rest of us.
Today my brother-in-law and my nephews and many of her friends and family are hosting a celebration of her life again as they mourn her death on its anniversary. Aylmer (the aforementioned brother-in-law) is one of the strongest people I’ve ever known. I have thought through what I respond like if my wife died. I have no idea how I’d recover or have the presence to push on in the immediate days following.
Aylmer was present. He was strong. He wept and held his sons, and planned a funeral, a celebration of her life and the ways God used her. He, by God’s grace, acted in every way like I hope I would be able to act should Theresa die before me.
I miss her. I can’t imagine how much Aylmer must, of course, but I miss her just the same. It still hits me every now and then that I’m not going to see her again until after I die. That she’s gone home and I have to wait to follow.
So today, in spirit, I’m in New Hampshire with Cindy’s family and friends celebrating her life and the ways God used her. I can’t be there right now personally, but I hope that the day is filled with joy and tears and memories as they remember what a phenomenal woman she was, and as they rest easy in the knowledge that she’s home with Jesus now and no longer feels the pain of the cancer that ate away her body.
I’m sure sometime today I’ll shed tears for her. My thoughts and prayers stay with Josh and Brandon and Aylmer as they continue to learn to live without her, and to wait for the day when they’ll be reunited.
Pain and joy, mixed in the memories and the hope of what’s to come.