Embracing Grief

Uncle George

 How do you make peace with something that causes you pain? Death is one of those things for me, and perhaps for you, as well. I’ve been working on this issue for several years but have yet to find a comfort zone. I believe Southerners know how to do grief and funerals better than anyone; it’s more of a celebratory thing with lots of food and drink. And company. I suppose that’s right, because the dearly departed has thus achieved the ultimate goal of life in the Everlasting Arms.

My Uncle George passed on to his reward on Wednesday evening, rest his soul. He was a loving, cantankerous man with a twinkle in his eye. He and my Aunt Marguritte always lived on a farm with land and cattle and, at times, horses. They built their own homes with the help of their three sons; a very resourceful family they were. I will always have fond memories of visiting the farm, talking to the cows (yeah, I did that), riding dirt bikes (when Mama wasn’t looking), and just hanging out with my cousins. His was a full life, and one to be celebrated, for sure.

I’m trying to swallow the lump in my throat and summon the nerve to embrace my grief and attend his funeral service. I’m quite sure that George will be smiling down on this service alongside his beloved son, Larry, who preceded him in death at much too young an age. They’ll be happy to see our family gathered in love to celebrate a life well lived.