The wedding was wonderful.
So many things happen during weddings.
Remembering is a part of the gift of the event.
Weddings can bring forth grief. You remember those who are not there in
person but whose spirit is so present.
Growing up, my sisters, brother, and I sang. I tell people that to get breakfast at my
house growing up, you had to sing a gospel song! I accuse my mom and dad of having four kids
because there are four parts in music.
We sang everywhere my parents could get us to sing—nursing homes,
church, talent shows, church, community gatherings, church—you get the
picture. We only sang gospel or
country. King of the road was the limits
of our wild songs—it mentioned cigarette!
We also had to practice. Oh, did
we practice! You cannot imagine how many
spankings I got because I was not practicing correctly. We had to stand together and sing even when
we practice. My mom would call my dad in
to be the enforcer. My parents believe
that you practice like you play! As I
reflect upon those years now, I realize what a gift it was and still is!
A part of our family tradition of singing was also at
weddings. The quartet sang “Surely The
Presence” at all the family weddings.
Even after my sister Karen died, the trio sang this song. At my daughter’s wedding, the song was sung
as a solo. As the song began, I was
suddenly aware that I was alone. My
sisters were not there. My brother was
away on a mission in Cambodia. I was
hearing this song for the first time without any of them present. I began to weep. The grief was like a high tide of the ocean
coming over the beaches of my soul.
Then the gift came.
My granddaughter, Caroline, is two years old. She is the only grandkid that adores me. The others put up with me. When she arrives at our home, Caroline
immediately looks for her “Papa J” first.
She loves to crawl up into my lap.
We read and sing. We talk to one
another. We take naps together. So
Caroline is a flower girl in the wedding.
She thinks she is a princess! And
she is!
She saw Papa crying and did what she knew to do. She left the wedding party and crawled up
into my lap as the song continued. At
one point during the song, she felt I was being too loud so she “sh’d” me to be
quiet. As my soul began to rest, she
smiled at me with those eyes of wonder.
Seeing that I was okay, she returned to her place at the front.
It was a gift. I
think Caroline was giving me a gift that is from God. She was present with me in my sorrow, but
pointing me to the precious now—the precious present! Grief and sorrow wants to capture our present
and throw us backward. It makes us long
for days ago. There is nothing wrong
with remembering. However, the promise
of God is to not let this burden us from living today! Oh how tragic it would have been for me to
miss the rest of the wedding celebration!
But I did need to remember but for a short while.
The whole experience has given me a new understanding of
Jesus’ words, “Let the children come to
me!” Caroline came to be with her
Papa! Thank you Caroline!
