Unfinished business: Some photos from a funeral

Jonelle and Dave brought over photos from Gracie Lou's funeral. They came in sometime last week. Jonelle and Dave asked me to post some for everyone who went through the trauma of Gracie Lou's brief time on earth with us this past spring.

So in case you wondered about how that went: Here are some photos from our family's very private funeral held in Virginia on the Lykosh family (Jonelle's older sister's family) farm back on September 12th. And a few comments from Dad/Grandpa John.

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Before I get to the funeral photos themselves, I'd like to show you the general location.

The first photo, below was taken from about where the "1" is on the aerial shot above and shooting toward the southeast. The second photo was shot about where the number "2" is in the aerial photo, and shot facing northwest. The gravesite is about at the "x" in the aerial photo. I took the photos below when I visited Amy and Phil in late July.

And with the location down . . . welcome to the funeral.

First, all participants were greeted by Cousin Isaiah, who handed out the program card at the gate just before we got to the tree line, heading down to the grave site.

Considering the mood, you might have wondered what we were doing.

I think there was a foreboding, however.

Phil had dug the grave a couple of days before the funeral and had brought down the gravestone a short while before the service--after Grandma and Grandpa Lilly arrived with Gracie Lou's body and the gravestone.

Those of us from Colorado--the ones who had been present through the entire trauma of Gracie Lou's birth, life and death, were so grateful that Amy and Phil had made the arrangements. I can't tell you what a great relief that was, that they had taken care of these things for us!

Doug Bush, an elder in the Lykoshes' church and an old friend of theirs, graciously agreed to lead us through the funeral service.

Again, a mercy. As you will see shortly, I think the rest of us were too close to shell-shock to have had to lead the service. (Oh, yes. I'm sure if we had been forced to do it, we would have pulled ourselves together. But I am extremely grateful that we were not called upon in that way!)

This photo illustrates the basic set up of the service, even though it was taken relatively late, when the service was almost over.

Doug had invited anyone who wanted to say something to do so. Dave's Mom/Gracie Lou's Grandma Bev shared a number of intimate memories from the few days Gracie Lou was with us. Here I was reading a passage of Scripture--Lamentations 3:4ff (through v. 23). --It seemed to express the bitterness of soul I--and I believe several of us--had been feeling . . . yet it expressed, too, an amazing change of heart and faith that, despite the hardships, I will "call to mind" and I will "hope": "The steadfast love of [YHWH] never ceases; his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning" (vv. 22-23).

[Side comment: I have never felt comfortable singing the lyrics to "Great Is Thy Faithfulness" as they are written: "Morning by morning, new mercies I see." --Frankly, I don't usually see God's mercies. I have to ask Him to show them to me, because mostly I'm blind. And so if I am to say anything about God's mercies being new every morning, I have to say it strictly on the basis of hope and faith and most definitely not by way of sight!]

Doug pretty well followed the funeral service outline from the Anglican Book of Common Prayer. After that: comments . . . and then the reading of a number of Scriptures by members of the family.

The photographer shot photos of most of us as we stood during the service. I am stunned at what they tell of the impact this event was having in our minds and hearts and bodies at that time. Even the littlest ones.

Sister Natalia.

Cousin Abraham.

Grandma and Grandpa Lilly--Bev and Tom.

Aunt Amy (and Cousin Joe)

I find myself tearing up every time I see this photo. I told Jonelle I thought it was too personal.

"No, it's not," said Jonelle. "It is what happened. And people need to know it happened. But yet, in the midst of the sadness, there was great joy. . . ."

And so I share the photo here. Mommy Jonelle and Daddy Dave, Sister Natalia, with Uncle Justin and Aunt Mary in the background.

Something about this photo . . . the sag, the need for comfort, for support . . . we all needed it.

I was stunned to see how haggard I looked. . . . And I was only a grandpa.

. . . Yet, in the midst of all the devastation . . . (indeed, just before the interment) . . . I don't know how this happened, but, somehow, there was an emotional break. . . .

. . . And then, shortly after: the most solemn part. Entrusting Gracie Lou's body into the bowels of the earth. . . .

And the final acts of goodbye. . . .

Phil waited until we had all left before he finished the job.

"It really was a beautiful day," said Jonelle. "In the midst of the pain, there was great joy. . . . And who could ask for a more beautiful spot for a final resting place of someone's earthly remains?"

Prior to the funeral, we had spent an hour or two with a photographer taking family pictures on the farm. And afterward, the Holzmann side of the family enjoyed a scrumptious banquet at the Bushes' house, catered by a local chef who, I am told, has won some awards that hold international distinction.

Yes. All in all, a beautiful day. But, oh! So piquant.

An era passing: I shed some tears this morning . . .

I get on the Sonlighters Club forums only very occasionally anymore. ("Back in the day" I used to spend hours there every day.)

This morning I went to one of my favorite Sonlighters Club forums (Lifelong Learners) and read the "farewell address" of one of the Sonlight moderators, one of the forums' very early participants, a woman whose services I urged Sonlight to acquire as a moderator specifically because I had seen how thoughtful and well-spoken she was.

Tracy has served as a moderator so long, I don't even recall when she began her duties. Probably about eight years ago, I would guess.

Well . . . her time of service seems to have come to an end as of this last weekend. And I happened to stumble upon her summary, goodbye post as a moderator.

I thought her insights were well worth repeating here. Through her moderating work, she helped to establish as practice (not always followed, but ever-more-intentionally pursued) what I expressed as a principle of communication I seek to follow in my own life and attempted to integrate into the Sonlight Curriculum. Specifically: "Seek first to understand, and then to be understood."

Sadly, I'm afraid, for too many of us--especially in the Christian community--the emphasis is entirely the other way 'round. (Indeed, I'm afraid, too often the matter of understanding is neglected completely in our headlong rush to make sure we "preach the 'Good News'"!)

Anyway. The following is an excerpt from Tracy's "Farewell Address" that made me cry:

On this, my last day as a Sonlight moderator, I’d just like to say, “Thank-you!” to each and every last one of you that has ever posted on the Sonlight forums, to those of you who lurked, to those of you I’ve spoken to on the phone, and with whom I have had email conversations. You’ve changed me in deep and lasting ways, and I am grateful to you.

You’ve made me lose sleep, miss meals, say bad words, and yes . . . scream in frustration. You’ve also inspired me, challenged me, taught me, shaped me, pushed me, stretched me, encouraged me, prayed for me, and been my friends . . . even when you didn’t know it was me that you were encouraging. Thank you for good times and bad.

I’ve had to learn to articulate just what it is that tends to make communication spiral out of control. Even though on good days, many of you have inspired me by your ability to look past your differences and reach out in genuine acts of loving charity toward someone with whom you completely disagree. I’ve had to learn to pinpoint, define, and express what pushes people to lash out. And in the end, you’ve changed me. Perhaps, not so much my opinions with regard to politics and religion and parenting and Harry Potter, and breast-feeding (or not), but in my ability to look for and express common ground where it can be found and to have a real affection for those with whom I disagree on substantive issues . . . like eggplant. To that end, you’ve helped me be a better co-worker and parent. To learn to articulate a principle is to become a better teacher of it both to oneself and to others.

I like to think I am a better person today, than when I started this job. You’ve challenged me and stretched me.

On the bad days, I’ve had to sit down and define just what made a post charitable or uncharitable completely independent of whether or not I agreed with the opinion expressed therein. That was hard and it taught me a lot. Many, many of you have taught me through your fine examples how to have a controversial opinion and express it with charity. If I have ever managed to express in words, how to communicate charitably; then, it is because I have seen so many fine examples of how to do it during my time as a Sonlight moderator. Through that exercise, I’ve learned to be more charitable in the way I express myself (I hope) in all aspects of my life and shockingly (to me) in many ways, I am more charitable than when I started work as a moderator and not just in the ways I express myself. By that I mean, I don’t just say things charitably but I AM more charitable. I am grateful to you all beyond words for that gift to me. . . .

From the bottom of my heart that you’ve all had a hand in enlarging . . . Thank you.