For my family
Living overseas means that sometimes when there is news in the family it comes in unconventional ways.
I read my mom's blog yesterday and learned there that my cousin Sheryl has passed away.
An email exchange later and I have learned that Sheryl died after a relatively minor surgical procedure.
Turns out that Sheryl had been living for years with medical conditions that left her in chronic, unescapable pain. That was something of a surprise to me because when I think of Sheryl I always see a peaceful, gentle face with a quiet little smile. Sheryl voice was always a little bit of a half-whisper - a cosy, pleasant voice.
I remember that Sheryl had hearing problems as a child and because of that she had the characteristic speech patterns of the hearing-impaired, a dialect that I always find charming. That, coupled with the fact that she was 100% southern in her speech made it a pure pleasure to listen to her.
My mom is a woman of beautiful, rich faith and her view of what happened is both comforting and probably true:
Sheryl was in a lot of pain following the surgical procedure and was recovering at her mom's house. Sheryl found herself sleeping comfortably and peacefully and let go of this earthly binding. My mom is certain that my and Sheryl's maternal grandmother, who passed away several years ago, was right there to greet Sheryl and welcome her home.
I've thought several times since hearing about this that it must have been awful for my Aunt Miriam to have been the one to discover the death of her daughter, but I can also think that for Sheryl it must have been so very, very comforting to be in her mom's house when she left this world.
I don't think it's ever completely natural for a child to die before a parent, not even if that child is an adult. My heart breaks for my Aunt Miriam. I don't know what I could say to her to give comfort, but I do think that my mom has it right. I'm certain that Grandma Tom is now giving Sheryl the grand tour of her new home.
I don't believe that we take the imperfections of our bodies with us to heaven, but I hope that if we have voices to communicate with that Sheryl still has that lovely and charming dialect to greet me with when it's my turn to join the family there.
I read my mom's blog yesterday and learned there that my cousin Sheryl has passed away.
An email exchange later and I have learned that Sheryl died after a relatively minor surgical procedure.
Turns out that Sheryl had been living for years with medical conditions that left her in chronic, unescapable pain. That was something of a surprise to me because when I think of Sheryl I always see a peaceful, gentle face with a quiet little smile. Sheryl voice was always a little bit of a half-whisper - a cosy, pleasant voice.
I remember that Sheryl had hearing problems as a child and because of that she had the characteristic speech patterns of the hearing-impaired, a dialect that I always find charming. That, coupled with the fact that she was 100% southern in her speech made it a pure pleasure to listen to her.
My mom is a woman of beautiful, rich faith and her view of what happened is both comforting and probably true:
Sheryl was in a lot of pain following the surgical procedure and was recovering at her mom's house. Sheryl found herself sleeping comfortably and peacefully and let go of this earthly binding. My mom is certain that my and Sheryl's maternal grandmother, who passed away several years ago, was right there to greet Sheryl and welcome her home.
I've thought several times since hearing about this that it must have been awful for my Aunt Miriam to have been the one to discover the death of her daughter, but I can also think that for Sheryl it must have been so very, very comforting to be in her mom's house when she left this world.
I don't think it's ever completely natural for a child to die before a parent, not even if that child is an adult. My heart breaks for my Aunt Miriam. I don't know what I could say to her to give comfort, but I do think that my mom has it right. I'm certain that Grandma Tom is now giving Sheryl the grand tour of her new home.
I don't believe that we take the imperfections of our bodies with us to heaven, but I hope that if we have voices to communicate with that Sheryl still has that lovely and charming dialect to greet me with when it's my turn to join the family there.