When I accompanied a friend to a funeral this weekend, I never anticipated the profound impact it would have on me. It wasn’t just the somber atmosphere or the tears that were shed; it was the raw, heart-wrenching emotions that stirred something deep within me. This experience made me reflect on life, loss, and the powerful messages we sometimes overlook in the midst of grief.

As we entered the funeral venue, the sight that greeted us was heartrending. The decedent’s sister lay on the floor, consumed by her grief, and not far away, his youngest daughters, who were about the same age I was when I lost my father, were crying out for their daddy. Their sobs pierced the air, and the depth of their pain left an indelible mark on my heart. It reminded me of my own childhood, missing my father at graduations and father-daughter events. My mother did her best to fill the void with stand-ins—a caring uncle, a supportive coworker, and, eventually, my beloved brother who walked me down the aisle. While I am grateful for their presence, they could never replace my dad.

My heart ached for those girls, knowing the milestones they would miss without their father. I could relate to their pain all too well. But what truly broke my spirit was witnessing the decedent’s mother stand to read her son’s obituary. She began with a smile, thanking everyone for attending, but my thoughts immediately turned to the heartbreaking reality that no mother should ever have to bury her child.

I couldn’t help but recall my own mother’s grief when my sister passed away shortly before my father. My mother never truly recovered from that loss, carrying the weight of her grief for 44 years until the day she joined them in eternity. As a parent myself, the thought of losing my child is unbearable and unimaginable.

Yet, amidst this sea of sorrow, there was a message of hope that caught my attention. A speaker reminded us to rejoice because the departed soul was now with the Lord, free from suffering, and would be reunited with loved ones in the afterlife. While I share the belief in this reunion, the concept of joy upon a loved one’s death was not something I could readily embrace. It wasn’t my immediate response when comforting someone in grief.

From a believer’s standpoint, I’ve felt relief when those I love have passed because it reaffirms my hope of seeing them again. There have been loved ones whose salvation status remained uncertain to me, either due to different faiths, no faith at all, or lifestyles that left me hoping for a last-minute conversion. However, joy was not part of the equation. It was a complex mix of peace, relief, and hope.

The final message that resonated deeply with me was delivered by another speaker, urging us to reach out to our loved ones now because tomorrow is never guaranteed. It served as a stark reminder that I, like many, have people I love but have failed to connect with. I often think about them but don’t take the time to reach out. It’s a shortcoming I acknowledge.

This wake-up call was made more poignant by the fact that the decedent was younger than me. It’s a stark reminder that tomorrow is not promised to any of us. Living in the present and cherishing the people around us became an urgent priority in my heart.

While our original intentions for October were to discuss other important topics, I felt compelled to share this message. Funerals are not just about mourning the departed; they are an opportunity for reflection, growth, and the reevaluation of our own lives. In the face of loss, we can find strength and perspective that can lead us to live more intentionally and love more deeply.

In the end, it is our experiences, both joyful and sorrowful, that shape us into better, more compassionate individuals. So, let us remember to embrace the now, cherish our loved ones, and find solace in the hope of reunions in the afterlife, for it is in these moments that we truly understand the depth of our humanity and the power of our faith.