Two wakes, a cake decorating class and a new start

I had to take a few weeks to process these events. Sometimes you need to sit on things and let them settle in before you are able to give them words. It all started with...

My oldest daughter getting herself situated at college, I was starting back to college courses myself, my youngest daughter adjusting to a new school, and like most people, I was overwhelmed with the media coverage of the 9/11 anniversary. Saying I was emotional doesn't begin to cover it.

Then the news came to my youngest, that a kid she went to school with last year died suddenly on the way home from school. This hit her very hard. Death of a peer when you are 16 is very difficult and unfair to understand. The boy was driving home on one of the very rainy days we had on a back road, hydroplaned and hit a tree. He died instantly. He was a great kid, had gone on two mission trips to the Dominican Republic, active in his church, great friend in school – popular kid, good at his trade, which was auto body.

The next day my neighbor came to me with very sad news. Her step-daughter's mother died of cancer that afternoon. Now, I know this sounds like I know this guy who knows this guy, but I did know her. I knew her from years ago, when our kids were little and we would gather at the house for Christmas parties. The fact that this young girl (the step-daughter) had lost the single most important person in her life was heart wrenching. My neighbor is an excellent step-mom, and her husband is a good dad, there is just no one like mom.

Then came the the wakes. They were ironically scheduled for the same day, located closely together, and one started an hour later than the other. My daughter and I attended both. The first one was the one for the mother. It was painful to watch this 16 year old girl mourn the death of her mother. Her grandmother was as inconsolable as she was, and her aunts were trying their best to hold a strong front. The aunts and grandmother had asked the father and step mother to not be present during this time. It was sad, very sad for this girl to face this horrendous loss without the support of the people she would be living with until she went to college. As I hugged her, and felt her sobs, her young, strong body was weak and broken. I wanted to sit down, hold her and comfort her in someway, but that was not the time to do that.

Then came the young man's funeral. The line was an hour and a half long. So many young people, church people, teachers, friends of the family, the community. When we were waiting in line, I noticed the mother most of all. Maybe because of the wake I had just left paying tribute to a mother, but I think it was more than that. Her sisters were taking turns behind her. Holding her by her waist, letting her rock gently back and forth, or side to side, but holding her the entire time. She was never alone. Her husband and younger daughter were by her side, but her sisters let her know that they were there to share in her grief and were going to hold her up physically and spiritually. It was a beautiful demonstration of love in action.

We drove around for the longest time, neither of us being able to talk. Quietly wiping away our tears, just absorbing the setting sun, the cooling evening, and the smells of fall. The silence broke and we decided to go out to eat. For the first time in a long time, she hugged me good night before she went to bed. It was hard to let her go.

The next night was the cake decorating class that we had signed up for months in advance. We knew we would need something to occupy ourselves with as soon as my oldest daughter sent in her acceptance letter. That night, my independent, secure, and seemingly dis-interested teenager wanted me by her side. We talked, whispered and giggled through class. It was good to end such a difficult week on a sweet note, literally and figuratively.

Like the Wes King song says, “Life is precious” Life is brief. We are never promised tomorrow. My youngest still has her stand-offish moments, and that is part of being 16. It is nice when she comes to me and asks “Do you think it is okay if I take Mackenzie some brownies I baked? She looks kind of lonely over there.” and I am able to calmly reply “I think that is a good idea” while inside I am beaming with pride that she is reaching out and showing compassion.

“Be the change you wish to see in the world” Ghandi