In today's strip of Funky Winkerbean a girl in the car with her Dad asks a profound question: "Dad...do you still miss Mom?" The father replies with a more profound answer: "There hasn't been a day, but after a while, you begin to understand . . . that you can't let your grief become the substitute for the one you love." (You can see the strip in full color if you Google "Funky Winkerbean' and look at the Seattle newspaper.) A friend in our Church once told me many years after his wife had died that he still missed her. Jake did the video of our 50th wedding anniversary service at First Baptist when David delivered the Sermon and all the rest had some role in the Service. He, too, has passed to the great beyond. I, of course, understand what he meant when he said that he "still missed her." And I have a real appreciation of the philosophy in Funky Winkerbean. And I miss son, Jimmy, as well. Jimmy's "twin", David, (they were both born Feb. 10th - two years apart) was in the Hospital in Texas over the week-end. Thank God he has been discharged and is apparently in good health. "Mom's" family in West Virginia are under some pretty bad weather conditions. I talked with my Sister-in-Law and they are doing o.k. and while there has been a lot of snow and ice they have not been without power. I was glad to learn that after seeing the Huntington, WV paper the last few days.
Incidentally, I first said "comic strip" above, but "comic" doesn't always "cut it" in regard to such.
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2 comments:
I still remember the moment in that sermon when I had to stop. What I did not know then is that the church triumphant is with us in ways much more powerful than memory.
I was thinking a lot about family this weekend, always do when I go to Billings to visit. I can still hear their voices in my mind when I think of those who are gone and remember their smiles. I have a picture of Mom and Jimmy together on my screensaver at work. It is part of the family album that I keep at work to keep me company. Friday I walked into my office to see that picture of them. It took my breath away, like they really there. But the pain of grieving is gone, like you said and I was smiling even though I was getting teary eyed.
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