Caring for my family’s final arrangements has proved to be a
long and drawn out process. With no will and a home left in a shambles, I have
found no object yet to be recovered of significant value monetarily or sentimentally.
I hope to obtain photos soon. We often think of comfort in death and equate
that by being surrounded by those we love, flowers and more. People dress up
and drive in Cadillacs all in a row for miles. I have sat in for the reading of
the will with lawyers in a comfortable room. I know of churches who bring
families meals and send flowers. Entire funerals are held. Some families have
each family member give a hour long dialogue on how much that person meant to
them and share their talents in song. We even videotape funerals to play again
and again in their memory. Photos and legacies consist of massive amounts of
sentimental talk and tears sometimes even including entire 2 hr annual masses
of remembrance for the dead in some cases with a get together for all
afterwards. I’m not making light of that in anyway. This is what many people do
and I respect that. This brings closure and peace. For some, these traditions
are the best comfort possible. When it happens like it did for my family
members those things are neither called for nor possible. Should I focus on
painful realities and regrets? Should I make it something it is not by forcing
such traditions on myself? Worse yet, should I just forget them out of anger
and spite? I have left anger, spite, and hate behind long ago. Long held
grudges and anger have been drowned in the depths of God’s infinite love for me
long ago. I would like to suggest that anyone can find that one significant
comfort that is more valuable than any mass and more comforting than any amount
of graciously given food lovingly prepared. In my case, I have found that and I
can’t call it a shred of comfort because I have found the very best way to
remember the good. It is better than flowers and more healing than the most
elaborate service with those I love. I was given a gift. In 4th
grade, I prayed and asked God for that gift. He graciously gave me the gift of
musical talent which I did not deserve. I played up to Suzuki level 5 and
participated in 2 state competitions for my grade level. I could have gone on.
My father wouldn’t let me forget that I wasted it and did not go on with it
after moving to California from New York at age 13. That talent became lost in
the sea of a tumultuous young adulthood. My grandfather’s violin, cherished by
all was given to me by my mother because she knew I had the gift. I left it in
storage not knowing how to properly care for it or have it checked on and it
was in such bad shape it could not be repaired when I returned from military
service to get it. I had nearly forgotten the gift when 2 violins from our home
in CA were sent to me in disrepair. I brought them into the shop, hoping at
least one could be repaired. Alas, neither violin held enough value to repair. Such
was the state of my heart after losing my entire family I grew up in before me
in short order it seemed. An outsider would say I’m done for and have no hope
just like those violins. Many people don’t have the faith to get this. Is that
how I feel? Absolutely not! Our God is the God of raising up beauty from ashes.
He gives us dancing for tears. As surely as Jesus rose from the dead, so He
lifts up my countenance. I have found the ultimate comfort. It is a comfort
that many people can never resurrect never having been given it. I would like
to suggest that my comfort and ultimate healing will be found in re-discovering
my gift of musical talent and playing the violin once again. Now, it doesn’t
matter to me if I ever play in a concert hall or in a symphony. It doesn’t
matter if I play my grandfather’s violin and I know he’s not frowning on me
from up in heaven for losing an object. Up in heaven, he knows that this is a
matter of the heart.
