Nikki and I joined her school community to celebrate the life of Marisela today. It completely reinforced why she goes to a faith-based school. The entire school closed down to attend the mass, every teacher participated in the service in some way (including one who no longer teaches there), and the students did the prayers and readings. Nikki's classmate's friends brought the elements up for communion-two rows of four boys each, all dressed in suits and ties. It was beautiful, a perfect reflection of Marisela.
And while I was able to appreciate all of that, the other parents and I sat there and sobbed, because that is every parent's worst nightmare; to have to leave our children before they're done with the huge task of becoming adults. Her poor son looks like he is carrying the world on his shoulders, staring vacantly and on the verge of collapse. He's twelve. Her husband embraced him throughout the service, having to be strong for his son while his heart must be breaking inside.
Like Tami said, a little perspective. I'll take my cranky preschooler.
This afternoon, we had a second funeral for our little hamster. Nikki chose a special box that said, "He is Risen, Indeed!" for Sandy's coffin. We buried him under the jacaranda, with three of her friends who loved him present. Nikki decided that each of them should take a handful of earth and say something about him while they covered him. Then they found a headstone and inscribed it with a sharpie. They also decorated the grave with some of Nikki's collection of pretty rocks. The finished up by collecting flowers and laying them on the grave, and then had a little reception on the driveway (Mom, can you get us some snacks?). It was a much more lighthearted event, something she could wrap her brain around. She orchestrated the whole thing in a way that made sense to her.
Nikki has the luxury of processing death on a smaller level. Marisela's son has no such luxury.
A little perspective.
1 comment:
I heard someone say, "We cannot compare sufferings." While I suppose we're unable to ACCURATELY do so, it is humbling to imagine ourselves in another's pain . . . and among the most precious of gifts to have EVEN ONE who will SIT WITH US in our's. I see you "sitting" with many people.
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