To those left listening
life seems to end
as if not quite complete
like the song of a music box
when the last note plinked
hangs all alone
and we’re left to finish
the melody from memory.
I’ve reason to believe,
when all have left the room,
the unwound spring
lets go a little more
‘til the last note
of the song is nudged
into the night
for God alone to hear.
© Copyright 2008, TK, Patterns of Ink
On behalf of my family, I'd like to thank you all for your continued prayers. Last evening's viewing was such a happy-sad time. We were so pleased that the skilled staff there at the funeral home were able to reflect Mom's beauty and the beauty of her spirit and the peace and rest she longed for. Even more pleasing was seeing Mom's beauty reflected in the hundreds of faces gathering in the room.
I sense that you understand that in these times somehow God gives strength that transcends the grief and transforms the place into a giant "living room," a non-stop flow of friends and family where hugs and tears and--best of all--laughs are mingled, and the hours are lost to the moment.
I know Bob will not mind my pointing out something that made us all smile when it occurred to us before the guests arrived at the funeral home ....
Last night as we were gathered there was the very night (57 years ago) when Bob made the wedding cake told of in the series posted below. This realization was not the least bit awkward. In fact, it seemed perfect as Bob's and Mom's family were both there together, struck by God's providential timeline. Jim and Kathy requested that copies of "Visiting Home" be printed for our guests so that others could know how that act of kindness long ago ties perfectly into these last pages of Mom's story.
Today is the anniversary of the wedding day that began Bringing Home the Duncan Phyfe. It is all the more fitting that on this day, we journey once again along that byway of our lives between Detroit and Port Huron, where our family's roots remained through all these years. This afternoon and evening in Mom's hometown marks the second day of visitation before Monday's service in the very church where Mom and Bob were married in May of 2001,
I hope these thoughts provide a sense of how your prayers are playing out in the real lives of people far away.
Sunday Update: Sunday's viewing in Port Huron was equally well attended as the one for our family circles in Macomb County. There was a steady stream of friends and family for about five hours. It was very tiring for Bob, but I trust it was an encouragement as well as many old friends and fellow Wertz Warriors came by to pay respects and offer support. It's been very nice to get to know Bob's family better this past week.
My Grandma, Mom's mom, looked wonderful(age 97 and doing very well but for the sadness). Mom's sister Jackie and her family were there as well as her brother Richard and his family. It's always great to catch up with the cousins. Carol and Connie came (daughters of Dad's brother Jack--best man whose car was in this picture). Uncle Bob's kids came (that Dad's haircut brother) as well as two of Roy's girls (all the way from New Jersey).
For those of you familiar with the Duncan Phyfe story (posted August through December), you'll be interested to know that I met the following people yesterday: the lady who rented my parents' upstairs apartment on Lapeer Avenue (scroll down to "flipping houses" here); the granddaughter of Mr. Kellermen who hired Mom at Star Oil. (The family still owns the business. Mr. Kellermen's granddaughter Emily married Bob's grandson Craig six years ago.)Our neighbors from Atkins Road, the Hales, Harris', and Bev Palmer was there with three of her kids.(I didn't just meet these folks. We are life-long family friends, but we see each other too seldom it seems.)
Over the dinner hour, my brother Jim and I drove to Mom and Dad's first apartment on White Street--the one to which they first brought home the Duncan Phyfe. As we drove west on Chestnut, I laughed at the slight downhill grade (where Mom got going too fast) because it is more noticeable than I imagined. I will be doing some revising of that chapter based on today's first-hand observation. It may come as a surprise that I'd never seen it before, but Mom's recollection of those streets and the small apartment was nearly "spot on." These thoughts are in my head because Mom and I had been talking of these things at length and in great detail throughout the fall. My brother Jim had followed the story during those months, and for us it's just a natural part of working through these days. I think Mom would be glad.