Last weekend we attended a memorial service for a family member. She was a dear woman, a mother to seven, grandmother to many more, who lived to be 91 years old.
She had suffered a farm accident as a child that left her arm and hand with limited mobility. She was a wonderful, caring mother, however, a church member (kitchen helper/baker) and a loyal sister to my Aunt Helen.
Yet, there weren't many memories shared or even a eulogy read at the service. Her neighbor remembered that she often sighed and said, "Gracious!"
I wondered what her grandchildren had learned about her life through this "final celebration."
I wonder sometimes, what people will remember about my life.
Last night I stayed awake worrying that I hadn't apologized ENOUGH for a recent wrong. I don't seem to know how to communicate well over email, text or Facebook. I worried that I would die without conveying the "I'm sorry" loudly or strongly enough.
I wish for more "face time." Time to share, connect, and make memories. I like visual cues. I like feeling a hand on the shoulder.
In the end I gave these worries to God. He can bring a spirit of peace where my words fail.
No comments:
Post a Comment