Today is Carol's Funeral -- Saying 'Goodbye'
So right now I'm thinking with fondness of Carol -- and how she was always smiling and upbeat. And sort of ditzy. And how I'm going to miss her. We all will.
So I'll find my closure here at home today. It was just inconvenient for me to get to the funeral. And the last thing Marilyn mistressmarilyn needed today was to deal with how to get me from here at home to the church and back again...
I'm okay with it. I felt a small amount of angst, but got over it quickly. Carol will know I'm missing her. And when I see Ron (her husband) again, I'll certainly tell him. I felt bad about what others might think, with me not attending. But then I realized that was petty. It doesn't matter what people think. It doesn't change how I feel about Carol.
I liked her. Very much. Positive and upbeat people always impress me. And Carol was also a school teacher, and I've always thought the world of teachers. I think it's one of the most noble professions a person can pursue.
Yes, Carol will be missed. And I can imagine it will be hard for Marilyn and Jenny and Leslie and others to get through this day. But the main thing I feel concerning funerals (or memorials) is that they're very necessary closure. A time to say 'goodbye' to someone. Not a final farewell, though. Just goodbye for now -- until we meet again.
I'm not an overly religious person currently. But it might surprise many to know that I used to be pretty involved in church and religion. Marilyn and I were brought up by a devote Lutheran (Mom) in the Methodist church. (It was as close to Lutheran as Mom could locate in those days in the area we lived. So she embraced the Methodist church and raised her children as Methodists.) There was actually a time as a child/youth when I sincerely wanted to be a missionary. I smile when I think of it now, but I can remember the fervor I felt as if it was yesterday...
I almost died as a young child. My church prayed for me -- they had a special prayer meeting the night of my surgery, with a full congregation gathered to pray. My doctor apparently told my mother that the very hour they were gathered to pray for me was the turning pointing -- when I began to improve. It had been 'hit or miss' for a time...
So naturally I was told several things by church members in the years that followed. Most of these things were tied up in the fact that God (and/or Jesus) had some 'plan' for me -- which was why I hadn't died. That there was something I was meant to do in the future. Something important.
I could laugh that off, I suppose, but I don't really feel in a position to know the Divine Plan. It would be presumptuous of me to assume that I'm in any way chosen to do something -- but equally presumptuous to assume I'm not.
Of course, I've always believed that we impact others -- for good or ill -- in little ways. Maybe I helped some religious vocation in the days when I taught Bible school or Sunday school. The children always seem to love me -- and I had a lot of parents tell me how amazed they were that their kids suddenly were looking forward to coming and hated missing the classes. The thing about that is, we're graced with certain natural talents (from God, I mean) -- so it's all part of a cycle, isn't it? If I'm by nature a good teacher, then I must be grateful to the One who designed that I would be...
(Yes, I've developed that 'talent' into a skill, granted. But I'd hope that anyone with a God-given talent would at least attempt to do the same. That's little enough to expect. But that could get me off on a tangent about our bodies -- and how we abuse our 'temples' -- so I'll stop now! LOL. Yes, I'm as bad -- or worse -- than the next person about needing to get more exercise and modify my diet. Ah well, I think that God is pretty forgiving about it... And other daily 'sins,' too. smile.)
I've gone off on a ramble. Again. (grin)
I do believe in the power of prayer. I believe there is something greater than us. Call it God, or whatever you prefer, but it's there. I've seen such amazing miracles during my life. I know every day that I'm blessed. And I'm thankful. Not a day passes that I don't feel appreciative.
I'll see you again Carol, one day. I know you'll be smiling when I move to hug you. (As I always did in the past.) A pleasant thought!
Back to NaNo! (Which is what I need to be doing today...)