Remembering a Life: The Value of Community in Grief

A long time ago we changed churches we were attending, and slowly we began to make friends. Steve and I were always the kind of people to jump in and figure it out later, often getting committed to ministry and activities. It was at least 16 years ago I met a woman that was active, sports oriented, hard working, and welcoming. Little by little we developed a friendship which later moved into a small bible study with 6-8 women. Life happened, and she hugged me and prayed with me when i lost my career job. And I hugged her and prayed for her when she was diagnosed with cancer. Our friendship was one that we could pick right up where we left off even if it was weeks later. We both wrestled with all that life throws at us. It was the kind of friendship that I knew she wanted and prayed for the best for me, and I definitely wanted the best for her.

Cancer is a cruel experience, and as her lung cancer metastasized there was noticeable impact on her thinking, and cognitive ability. There were times when she was not the friend I had grown to know. Emotional, sometimes scattered and very strong on opinion. Several years ago another friend of ours died of glioblastoma, a rapid moving cancer of the brain and this seemed to be the set point for her rapid decline in cognitive ability, coupled by the deep fog of depression. Hugs and prayers and hot meals delivered to her door didn’t seem to lift her from this muck and mire. Honestly I could only pray. In this state of confusion words were spoken that were difficult to look past. I tried. I knew that what was said would have not come from her rational pre-cancer self. It had to be hard finding your body and your mind betraying you, not allowing life to have any sense of normal. I prayed, and I grieved for her ever declining situation. And last Monday she passed away, into the arms of Jesus.

There was a viewing and a funeral at a funeral home and of course we went. Knowing how involved she had been in church, sports and her love of sailing I expected to see the room packed. Sadly beyond the immediate family there were only 2 neighbors, and 5 people from church. I felt a touch of anger that all those years she was so involved, so much a giving person who often put others ahead of herself, and yet only 5 people from church could take time to honor her life and offer sympathy to her husband for this tragic loss. It should have been a rally of many people to his side. Even the pastor didn’t make the effort to stop by and give his condolences. How does this happen?

I am beginning to feel like I have one foot in the past, where respect and community support at times of loss was just what we do. But the other foot is in this post covid world where known traditions and ways are disappearing and people are much less compassionate or respectful.

I dont have answers for the raw emptions. And i dont know how to fully recover those parts of our society that make life more compassionate. But it is causing me to ask what is in a life. Shouldn’t the many ways she volunteered, offered her assistance, coached, cheered on people have left an imprint on others? Shouldn’t her daily life have drawn a bigger notice when she passed? Or was the 14 year struggle with cancer something that drew her away from people the big factor?

It is something to talk about her life – but i have found myself beginning to look at my own life. Certainly I will not know how my funeral goes, or who notices. But quietly I pray that my life will have had a solid impact on my world. Do you ever thing about this?