A Family's Love
Tracy Lee • May 15, 2020
Quite often when I direct out of town services, I will arrange for my clients to have their visitation and funeral on the same day; one immediately following the other. Doing so saves my client money, as I am not staying in hotels more nights than necessary, nor am I forced to bill them for non-productive hours.
Last week, I directed such a service. My husband and I rose early and set out on our way across the great state of Texas. It was a peaceful morning as the sun rose over the majestic Texas landscape. My heart was filled with gratitude for such beauty and peace.
As we arrived and set up at our destination, I saw that this family had several very young children in attendance. As they hovered around their loved one, I noticed that they would each touch the decedent’s cheek with the back of their fingers. They would then slowly glide their hand toward her hair, gently caress, and reposition her curls. It was a very endearing gesture. I also noticed that although they could barely reach over the casket’s edge, even the very young children would follow this outward display of affection, and would enlist the assistance of an adult to lift them so that they could hug and kiss their loved one. Gathering around, survivors would reminisce and offer stories of wonderfully touching and funny experiences they had once shared with their dearly departed matriarch. It was a very touching display. In my professional career, I have never before seen a family so uninhibited with death’s stigma, so eager to touch their decedent, so freely expressive of their love and admiration for her, nor one involving so many very young children completely at ease with death.
As the service began, the Pastor introduced himself and spoke a little about his background. He was a recovered drug addict, former prisoner, and reformed motorcycle gang member. His service was very personal. He related the depths of his struggles to the pain and anguish the family was currently suffering. Near the end of his sermon, he moved toward the congregation and invited the brokenhearted and mourners into a prayer circle. As the family members rose and came forward, the prayer circle became a prayer huddle. Sisters, brothers, children, cousins, aunts, and uncles descended toward the Pastor. As they came toward him, he stretched out his long arms and gathered them as a mother hen gathers her baby chicks under her wings. (Matthew 23:37) He bowed his head and supplicated to the Divine Creator to comfort them with his redeeming grace, and to dispel the weight of darkness and pain.
Their service ended and I came forward to direct the recession of those in attendance. Tearful friends offered condolences as they passed the casket. It was then time for the family to come forward. As I dismissed them one by one, each paused beside the casket, lingering, reflecting, and then bending forward to kiss their loved one farewell. As they gathered en masse to the side, allowing me room to come forward and close the casket, my movement involuntarily halted. My breath caught itself as my eyes fell upon the casket scene. There, directly before me, I beheld a vision: a vision of love, sorrow, respect, and hope.
As her survivors had paused beside her casket offering their final farewells, they had each placed into the casket, a meaningful photograph of him or her taken with the decedent during her lifetime. This matriarch who had been a mother, grandmother, great-grandmother, sister, aunt, cousin, wife, daughter, and friend to so many, was now adorned with an evidentiary display, respectfully and lovingly placed upon her person by sorrowful survivors motivated through sincere gratitude, showcasing the love, influence, and wisdom she had unselfishly shared with them.
The display of love and affection was overpowering. The intensity of this woman’s love and influence was alive and powerful even as she lay dead in her casket. My soul, so deeply touched, stilled for a moment. As I stood there frozen, my thoughts raced. It was something so beautiful and so amazingly spiritual that I desired to capture and record it as an historical moment. I, of course, could not. One cannot capture spiritual expression with a camera and trying to do so would have been completely inappropriate. Yet, there I remained, frozen and consuming the majestic beauty of this family’s love and gratitude.
I was somehow aware of movement within my peripheral vision and realized my husband was moving to my aid. I unwillingly yanked my awareness back to my duties and began to move forward toward the casket. As I reached up to close the lid, I realized I would need to relocate several of the photographs tucked into the cap panel so that they would not fall as gravity’s pull worked its power upon repositioning their angle during closure. I could not inflict the sorrow any of these loving survivors would suffer if their photograph drifted on a current of air onto the floor, or dropped and hit their loved one as she rested there so peacefully.
I reinstated the casket lid in its upright position and began reaching for the precarious photographs. As I did so, the family moved to assist me. I was so touched by their love for the woman lying in the casket that my hands began to shake and tears began flowing down my cheeks. The photographs were repositioned and I tenderly lowered the casket lid, allowing them every possible moment to touch and glimpse her as she faded from their view.
We proceeded to the cemetery to commit her to her grave. As she descended below ground level, her family members stood around the parameter of her casket, touching it, until it was beyond their reach. One by one, they turned and tearfully departed through the gates of the cemetery as the melodic and lyrical beauty of “Jealous of the Angels” gently caressed their souls.
As I drove home that afternoon, the Texas landscape was vibrantly alive with the glorious colors of a fall sunset. My heart, still filled with the lingering beauty of this family’s service, was thankful for the Master’s Throne of Grace where one might find mercy in times of need. (Hebrews 4:16) I was honored to have served a soul who had reflected Christ’s love and everlasting light so profoundly upon those whom she had served, and touched by the symbolism of life’s cycle as the sun’s evening rays brilliantly lit up falls foliage as it prepares to tumble to the ground.
My name is Tracy Renee Lee. I am the owner and Managing Funeral Director at Queen City Funeral Home in Queen City Texas. I am an author, syndicated columnist, and certified grief counselor. I write books and weekly bereavement articles related to understanding and coping with grief. I am the American Funeral Director of the Year Runner-Up and recipient of the BBB’s Integrity Award. I deliver powerful messages and motivate audiences toward positive recovery. It is my life's work to comfort the bereaved and help them live on.
The past two weeks have been difficult for me. I have suffered the loss of a dear friend and have served families that have suffered great losses. The COVID-19 pandemic has caused unwarranted loss, stress, and heartache to so many people this year. Not only have we lost loved ones, but we have lost our economy, our comfort, and our security as Americans. Everywhere I look, it seems that people are rude and uncaring toward each other when what we need is love. I wish we could be kind to each other, considerate to each other, and help each other through our difficulties rather than burning cities, burning businesses, and tearing apart what makes up great, our Union. Americans are the most blessed people in the world. We live in a time of convenience and wealth. Why is it then that we can’t add kindness and respect to our society? Why must there be murders and brutal attacks on innocent people walking down the street? I work with families every day who would give all that they have for just one more moment with their loved one to say, “I’m sorry” or “I love you.” Time is so precious, but even more precious is the way that we treat others. For if we treat others with contempt, we will reap the bitter reward of hatred. Hate eats a person from the inside out, and no matter how hard a hateful person tries to find happiness, it will never come to them. I know this because I see it every day. A hateful heart has no room for happiness. Happiness only comes to those who love. Love is like light. Light is the only thing that is stronger than the dark. If you have a completely dark room and you strike a match, the light from that match will push the darkness away and light up the room. Conversely, if you have a room filled with light and you cup your hands to create a spot of darkness. As soon as you open your hands, the dark is gone. Light overpowers it just as love overpowers hate. Love is the only thing that is stronger than hate. If you strike an ember of love in the heart of someone full of hate, love will grow and overtake their hatred. In my profession, love is very important. I see all too often those who have pushed love aside thinking that they were winning an argument or for some other ridiculous reason. What I see when this happens is that at the end of life, those who were foolish and let hatred get the best of them suffer the most. They remain miserable for the rest of their lives. Don’t be one of these people. Don’t let hatred get the best of you. And most assuredly, let us not allow hatred to overtake our country. I don’t want to live in a world filled with hatred and discontent. I want happiness and love for all. I especially want love in your life when you suffer loss because believe me, when the grim reaper knocks, it’s too late to cry for one more moment to say, “I’m sorry” or “I love you.” At that moment, the weight of hatred crushes every hope you ever had to make amends, to accomplish happiness, or to right any wrong you may have perpetrated. It’s too late and you are the person who will suffer the consequences of your vicious actions. You are the person who will have no friends, no love, and who will die alone; miserable because of your hatred and terrible deeds. I know because I see it in so many people who thought they could just make a statement, a judgment, or an action and not suffer the consequences. In the end, it’s the hateful people who suffer the consequences. They die alone without love or support. Their needs are not met and they writhe in misery. I lost a dear friend this past week. He was kind, loving, and good. He made the world a better place, and he made my life happier through his actions of kindness toward me. I wish everyone alive could have known my friend. Christ died to make man holy, and my friend John took up his offer. John was a holy man. He lived his life serving others, teaching others, and helping anyone who needed help. He was filled with love and he shared his love with those who needed it. If we could all be like John, the world would be an amazingly happy and beautiful place. John is gone and I feel the weight of his loss deeply in my soul. He leaves a legacy of service to our nation, service to Christ, and service to anyone who needed it. He was a good man, a great man, and now he is gone. I will have the honor of directing his memorial service in a few days. The church will be bursting as those who John served make their way there to express their sorrow and love for him. I will be one of those people. John’s legacy will continue in his absence because he ignited goodness, love, and service in the hearts of those about him. May we all understand and embrace John’s mission in life to serve and love our fellow beings. Doing so will bring us the greatest rewards. It will fill our lives with the greatest gifts on earth; joy, happiness, and love. This is my prayer for you, for our nation, and for the world during this time of uncertainty and discontent. Thank you, John, for being my friend, and my God bless you as you arrive home, never to suffer more, the pains of the world nor heartaches of men. Godspeed.
I received a first call late last night and was therefore at the hospital when I ran into an acquaintance of mine. As we spoke, she told me that her father had recently died. She began to cry and I offered to send over a set of my grief books (Mourning Light I, II, & III) to her office the following morning. I wrote her a sympathy card and delivered the books about 15 minutes ago. She had not yet arrived at her office, so I left the books and card with her secretary. The following is the note I wrote in the sympathy card. I thought I would share it, in hopes that it might help others who mourn as well. Dear Friend, February will be the 2nd anniversary of my grandson’s death. It is said that “Death is Final”; that is untrue. The pain and loneliness remain in my soul, and it feels as though I held his lifeless body, yesterday, in my arms. That day broke me; it almost killed me. Had I not had the love and support of my husband and children, I don’t think my sanity would have remained with me. The pain continues to crush my soul with anguish. There are 4 things that have helped me survive the debilitating pain of losing my grandson, and I wanted to share them with you in hopes that you might find peace in them as well. Prayer Prayer was, and continues to be, my saving grace. Without the love and promise of Christ’s redeeming grace, peace would remain unobtainable. Recounting my Experience Sharing my story out loud made it real. It took away my fear. It gave me power over the chaos of pain. Information As a certified grief counselor, knowing what to expect and whether it was normal or abnormal helped keep my worries at bay. The books that I have sent over are filled with information, plainly and simply written, to help you understand and identify the symptoms of grief, as well as recovery’s signs and secrets. Journaling Writing down my anguishes, thoughts, pains, worries, and fears helped me to let them go. I was able to organize myself, and it gave me hope for my future. I am sorry for the dreadful sorrow in your heart, and the pain that infiltrates your daily existence. I understand that breathing feels unnatural, it takes effort to continue on, and that peace eludes you. I wish that death did not exist, but it is a reality that the both of us know all too well; one that we must endure. I believe that families are forever, that we are all God’s children, and that we will reunite with our loved ones across the veil as we too, one day, experience death. Until that day arrives, however, I pray that you and I will live our lives as emissaries of Christ, basking in his grace, and recipients of his glory. I hope that as you suffer the loss of your daddy that you will feel comfortable in reaching out to others, and that you might call me should you need assistance. The pain of grief should never be carried nor suffered in silence, nor alone. Reach out and allow those who love and care for you to lighten your burdens. Life will never be as it once was, but it will improve as you share priceless moments of peace with those who remain by your side. I hold you in high esteem, and pray that Christ’s promise will grace your soul. With Deepest Regards, Tracy Lee My name is Tracy Renee Lee. I am a Certified Grief Counselor (GC-C), Funeral Director (FDIC), published author, syndicated columnist, and co-founder of the “Mikey Joe Children’s Memorial” and Heaven Sent, Corp. I write books, weekly bereavement articles, and Grief BRIEFs related to understanding and coping with grief. I am the American Funeral Director of the Year Runner-Up and recipient of the BBB’s Integrity Award. It is my life's work to comfort the bereaved and help them live on, as well as educate adults in the needs of surviving children.