THOSE WHO MOURN

They say things come in threes. Theologically, we call it the “Trinitarian formula.” Lots of preachers use that formula. We tease them saying their sermons always include “three points and a poem.” Many secular public speakers do the same. They address a single topic, but they turn the gem so that you can see three facets (applications) of their one central theme. In music, a concerto has three movements.

Sometimes sad things come in threes. Losses, for example. I have no idea why that is the case, but it often is. Last week I wrote a blog about the loss of my wife’s mother, Mama Jeanne. This week, two more individuals dear to me changed worlds.

Mary took me under her wings when I was a student at Duke. She and her husband, Bernard, literally treated me as if I were their own son. They fed me (a lot). They took me places I couldn’t otherwise afford to go. They taught me to do things I didn’t know how to do (for example, how to water ski). They listened to me dream and complain and process life. Most of all, they loved me in spite of myself. Faith calls that “agape” (love that is unconditional). Bernard died a few years ago. I received a phone call this week informing me that Mary, in her 90s and seriously ill, had gone to join him.

Mary kept up with me over the years. My last voicemail from her was from this past October. Hurricane Helene had blasted through. She knew of our connection to Blowing Rock. On one of her good days, she phoned. The voicemail said: “Hi Michael. This is Mary. I’m just calling to make sure you are okay and to tell you that I love you. When you have a chance, call me back.” When I did call her back, it was on one of her not-so-good days. She didn’t recognize who I was. It’s always hard to lose someone who has been “like family” for half a century. But, it’s comforting to know that she won’t have any more bad days. Where she and Bernard are now, all the days are good ones.

Page and I had lunch with our friend, Mike, less than two weeks ago. He was the same as always – jovial, warm, generous, kind, and absolutely full of life. This morning we were informed of his death. Mike spent his life as an educator and a church musician. Most people didn’t know how many young folks he supported, not just academically or emotionally, but financially. He never had children of his own, but he loved young people who needed nurture and care as if they were his own. Two weeks ago, he told us he was helping more than twenty of them afford to go to college. Like Mary, Mike was a person motivated by kindness. We weren’t prepared to say this goodbye, but it helps to think of Mike in a place where he is young again and the music around him is celestial.

I reiterate, there is comfort in thinking of where our lost loved ones are. But, they also leave behind empty spots no one else can fill. Those of you who have suffered loss understand that. Faith does not negate grief. The simple truth is that the more you loved someone, the more deeply you hurt when they are gone.

Let me offer three quick pieces of advice (apparently even that comes in threes) to those of you who suffer grief. First, when you experience a loss, allow yourself to feel what you feel. There’s no rulebook. You don’t have to “be strong” or “buck up” or “try not to cry.” We aren’t constructed that way. Pain that is denied or suppressed will in time find you. Only then, having been held at bay, it will hit you with a vengeance. Remember the old adage: “That which is buried, grows.” So, weep. Curse the darkness. Fall into bed. Go through the four predictable stages of shock (denial), anger, guilt, and depression knowing that in time will come the fifth stage, resolution. Be as gentle with yourself as you would with anyone else who mourns.

Second, remind yourself that the very best things about another person are too big and lasting for death to take away. The love they offered, the laughter they shared, and the life lessons they taught will continue to be present. As long as you live, the best of what they were to you will still live in and through you. The positive impact they had on you will not disappear. You are forever different because they were present. Therefore, in a certain way they still are.

Third, never delay loving. Life is unpredictable. You get a call from someone one day, they don’t recognize you the next. You have lunch with someone one week, they are gone the next. No one can count on the fact that life will continue unchanged or that the people who make it meaningful will continue ad infinitum. How often have you heard someone say, “If only I could get him or her back for one more day”? Since we cannot turn clocks back, then maybe it’s a good idea to make every day “the” day when love is expressed. It can be something as simple as a phone call, text, or email. Maybe just a quick hug. Don’t run the risk of “If only.” My friend, Bill, often says: “Someday never comes. It is always this day.” He’s right. So, if there’s someone you love and they need to know it, what are you waiting for?

Life can be fragile. Handle it with care.