I attended a funeral recently and I was lost for words.
Someone robbed of their life at, what seemed to me, its prime. What did he do to deserve such an untimely and cruel death? Why him? Why now? What about those left behind? How are they supposed to cope? Too many questions, too few answers.
For us who attended the funeral, it ended at the cemetery. But for his immediate family, the funeral has only just began. They have the task of facing life without him. Who will they talk to when they need daddy? Who will they set the table for where daddy used to sit? It's all a blur.
Like the writer of Ecclesiates, I am inclined to say that life is useless. Okay, there is a time for everything as Ecclesiates 3 clearly explains. The time for death must be the most painful time. Someone you love slips away from you and the worst thing is that there is nothing you can do about it. You get forced to let go of someone you hold dear; break all attachments you had with them; give up all you shared with them as they go to their rest, six feet under.
What you are left with are memories of what was and thoughts of what may have been. I have to be strong for them and just be there if they need a shoulder to cry on.
The loss of one life has, however, made me take stock of my own. It doesn't have to take death to spur us into action, but this is exactly what has happened because you don't appreciate what you've got till it's lost and gone and never to be felt or touched again.
I thank God for my life and praise Him for that which has been.
May those who have departed rest in peace.
