60 years...

I found myself at a funeral for someone I really didn't know. My parents and I had gone to support friends of ours. These people are like an aunt and uncle to me so it was important to help in whatever way we could.

The hard part about helping out is not really knowing what to do. You say all the appropriate clichéd sayings of comfort meanwhile you're silently kicking yourself for not being able to express it in a better way. I found myself bleating out these feeble comforting words. ' baaaa sorrry for your loss. maaaaa' While trying to look appropriately sad for the person. I think I looked more panicked then anything. But having been on the recieving end of these panicked bleattings I remember that the sentiment meant more. Just the mere prescence of someone you care for is enough.

The bizarre part during a visitation is when you can stand next to a dead body and talk about the mundane happenings, like the weather, during a life changing event. Very schizo. I think the weird part was that the body had on a patterned sweater that seemed to move. I could've sworn at one point he was breathing. Wasn't to sure what to do about that.

What caused me pause to think was the fact that the man who had passed on, had been married for 60 years and they were incredibly in love with one another. What must it be like to have shared a majority of your life with someone then have them gone? His wife, a spry 78 year old, broke my heart. She was incredibly strong through the whole ordeal. Comforting everyone else. It was clear that it really hadn't sunk in yet. I'm glad that she has a family that will be there to support her through this transition.

I hope I am as blessed as her when it comes to finding my partner in life. To love each other more then the day you met. They truly had that incredibly precious gift. Call me selfish but if I do have a lovely husband I hope I go first.
It gives me pause to think and be thankful for my family and friends that I already have. Now I feel strangely quiet and still...