A Bitter Sweet Funeral.

It was the week of Young Women's in Excellence that we got the phone call that Great-Grandpa Johnson was in the hospital and not doing too good.

And it was the day of Young Women's in Excellence that we got the phone call that we needed to be down there right away if we wanted to say goodbye.

At first, when thinking of all that I was in charge of that day, and knowing I was supposed to be over at the church decorating right then, I contemplated sending Patrick on his way by himself.  But because of a series of miraculous tender mercies, I received the impression that we all needed to be there together, at the bedside of one of the greatest men I know.

So Patrick cleared his schedule, and I cleared mine (the other leaders were so understanding), and we piled in the car to speed down to see Grandpa for the very last time.

I'll never forget the feeling in the hospital room when we entered.  The veil was thin, and heaven was close.  The tangible peace that filled the air brought a rush of tears to my eyes.

Patrick began to whisper in his grandpa's ear and rubbed his shoulder as he did.  And even though Grandpa was in that state of unconsciousness, I knew that he knew that his grandson was there--because I saw his vitals pick up.  I took my own turn at his side, thanking him for his kindness to me and telling him how much I loved him.

It was a sweet experience for Patrick to be part of the final blessing given to his grandfather, and then we said our final farewells.

On the way home, Patrick and I held hands, as we always do, but this time it was different.  More sacred.  More holy.  For this is really the first experience we've gone through together in losing a loved one.  And it felt so good in my heart to know that I was there for my sweetheart, and there for our dear sweet Grandpa.


The next week we drove down to the funeral and were blessed to participate.  Patrick gave such a powerful talk and testimony.  I am always proud to be called his wife, but during these few minutes, I was especially grateful for the mighty man of God I am married to.

Unfortunately, Maylie was crying through most of the funeral services, so I walked the long halls with her and finally retreated to the mother's lounge where she continued to cry.  I didn't get to be a part of the final song as I had planned, but I sang from that mother's lounge with all the feeling of my heart.

It was a sweet and somber day.  A day to reflect on the wonderful man we all love so much.  And it was a day to look forward to that great day of resurrection when we will see him again.