In the midst of the overwhelming outpouring of sympathy after Larry's death on June 29, I pause to reflect on all the feels.
Yes, I am well acquainted with the classic stages of grief and aware that there is nothing linear about the process. So, while denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance continue to cycle through my heart and mind, I do what I have always done, try to make it all make sense, find a way forward, think of practical lessons to learn and apply. Besides his memorial service giving us time to celebrate the gifts of compassion, justice seeking, kindness, teaching and mentoring, it brought us together--family, friends, colleagues, and former parishioners. I planned carefully, chose twice as many hymns as we could possibly sing, invited speakers to highlight aspects of his ministry, listened breathless as four of our five children (Anne was in Slovakia) spoke about his impact on their lives, and felt supported by the arms of grace. I was stunned by the 50+ active and retired clergy joining in the Bishop's Hymn to honor our shared covenant and hope of God's reign made real.
I visited with 80 % of those who came, recalled our lives together, asked for people to tell me jokes, accepted hugs, enjoyed memories shared. I have thanked as many as I could for being there, for gifts given to the Refugee Program, for offering hospitality and other kindnesses. Yet, now two months later, I return to the lists of names, trying to remember who was there that I had the opportunity to talk to, who I might have talked to, who I missed seeing all together.
The biggest impact, the dearest keepsakes, are the cards you sent, the letters received, the slips of paper telling me stories, all recalling your relationships. My first learning was the significance in the task of selecting a card, writing a note, signing your name, leaving it at the church, or finding a stamp and sending it in the mail.
It means more than you know. It is my new resolution, will be my new intentional practice in moving forward. It helps. It divides grief. It brings tears and joy.
Honestly now, send a card, it's not that hard.
