Quite
honestly, I've been having a really hard time thinking of the next chapters of my
story, maybe because, for me, the most difficult hadn't even occurred yet.
Even though
I had a year to prepare emotionally for mom’s passing away, at the funeral, I
was still in shock. It was so final. I tried crying but couldn't. I just felt
sad and couldn't believe she was actually gone. In some ways, it was all a
blur. I remember Shiloh Mennonite Church was full. I wore black as a symbol of
my sadness. A lot of mom’s sisters came
to the funeral. It was nice to have them there but I wasn't in the mood for
much talk.
Dad planned
the funeral. He put a lot of thought into it. It was given in English and
translated into Spanish for the Hispanic people present. Dad picked some
worship songs sung in English and Spanish. He asked several people from
different walks of mom’s life to talk about her. DeLynn talked on behalf of the
family. Pablo Kauffman gave the sermon. David Villalta, pastor of the Hilliard Hispanic
Church gave a reflection. A representative from RMM and EMM each shared. Uncle
Jose closed in prayer.
Everyone
was dismissed and our immediate family was left to say goodbye. How does one
say goodbye to mom? I still don’t know. In some ways I don’t think you do since
she continues to live on in my heart. She passed on to me so many things one
doesn't ever forget her.
The burial
was scheduled right after funeral. But plans changed since the hold wasn't big
enough for the casket! Yea, kind of funny! So everyone was invited to each
lunch together and then we had the burial following.
Some of the
people that were there that really made an impression on me was my best friend,
Rhoda. Her and her husband happen to be home of furlough from China. After the
funeral we were able to talk. It was a privilege to have her there. The other
person I was privileged to have there was a childhood friend, Dorcus from Oregon. At that time she lived in northern Ohio so
she made the trip. It was so nice to see her. At the viewing, a long time
friend of the family, Jim Lowe came. As I saw him come into the sanctuary, I
couldn't believe he came. He himself was fighting cancer and was in a very
fragile state and could hardly talk. I felt so loved to have him there.
After
everything was over, the Gingrich family stayed around. I would have liked to
have stayed but was scheduled to fly back to Costa Rica the next day. I hadn't
planned it that way, but God had. It was time for me to go back and take
care of my own family, or better said, let them care for me.
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