expectations
Beth and I sang at the funeral of Paul Cox yesterday, a long-time Garnett member.
It's always tough to say good bye to people, even if they're believers and they are done with the problems and struggles of this planet, and moving on to bigger and better things.
Paul's death, along with a sad death described in Grant Boone's blog (I don't know Grant or Kerri, I just read his blog from time to time), along with the anniversary of my big bro's death on March 7th, have made me think more than I usually do about death these last few days.
Some of the most difficult things I find about death, which Grant also refers to, are expectations of your behavior and demeanor after the death. You simply can't expect others to feel or behave like you would expect them to. But it's tough to suppress those expectations.
For several months I struggled with feelings of guilt after my brother Lowell died almost 2 years ago. The guilt came from realizing that I wasn't feeling the hurt as strongly as I did during the days right before and right after his death.
Then, there was the first day that I just didn't think about him. Major guilt.
My friend Jeanne is a professional at knowing how to deal with stuff like this, and even after telling myself repeatedly that I didn't need any type of counselling, she offered me some free help. I finally caved.
She convinced me that the ability to not focus on his death was a gift from God that would let the healing begin. After more tears, I could feel the weight dropping off my shoulders.
I still miss Lowell a lot, and I found myself crying a bit during some alone time yesterday, because I miss my good friend and bro. But I seldom, if ever, focus on his death or the events surrounding it anymore.
Thank God.
There are too many good times to remember, and look forward to.
It's always tough to say good bye to people, even if they're believers and they are done with the problems and struggles of this planet, and moving on to bigger and better things.
Paul's death, along with a sad death described in Grant Boone's blog (I don't know Grant or Kerri, I just read his blog from time to time), along with the anniversary of my big bro's death on March 7th, have made me think more than I usually do about death these last few days.
Some of the most difficult things I find about death, which Grant also refers to, are expectations of your behavior and demeanor after the death. You simply can't expect others to feel or behave like you would expect them to. But it's tough to suppress those expectations.
For several months I struggled with feelings of guilt after my brother Lowell died almost 2 years ago. The guilt came from realizing that I wasn't feeling the hurt as strongly as I did during the days right before and right after his death.
Then, there was the first day that I just didn't think about him. Major guilt.
My friend Jeanne is a professional at knowing how to deal with stuff like this, and even after telling myself repeatedly that I didn't need any type of counselling, she offered me some free help. I finally caved.
She convinced me that the ability to not focus on his death was a gift from God that would let the healing begin. After more tears, I could feel the weight dropping off my shoulders.
I still miss Lowell a lot, and I found myself crying a bit during some alone time yesterday, because I miss my good friend and bro. But I seldom, if ever, focus on his death or the events surrounding it anymore.
Thank God.
There are too many good times to remember, and look forward to.
2 Comments:
Thanks for sharing Glenn. Death has been on my mind a lot lately too. We have had 3 deaths in the family over the last month. They were all great uncles and aunts for me. But what hits home is that those are MY Grandparents brothers and sisters. I definitely have death issues. Not a fear of death but a fear of how I will handle it. I have not lost any of my grandparents yet and I dread that feeling of loss and sadness. Simply put, I just don't really like the idea of living without them. Alot of hesitation and dread.
Laura, I understand. I have the same fears. One of the comforting aspects of Lowell's death was how he handled it. He was literally in a state of praise, arms extended, minutes before his last breath. In spite of the tragedy of it all, he was an encourager to all of us, really more than we were to him. Hopefully, that memory will serve me well.
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