Another week, another funeral. This time, it was a relative of my relatives. But still, he was family.
He was a nice man – a little challenged, a lot lonesome, a little sick and then a lot sick. And then he was gone.
And I’m glad I met him. He joked with me and I laughed with him. And now, he’s gone.
I stood at the graveside and my heart broke. Because there weren’t many mourners. His immediate family had gone before him. But the family who stood there watching his body lowered into the ground, they weren’t representative of all the people whose lives he touched. There were others. In his life, there were others he laughed with, joked with, played with, quarreled with, cried with.
This life, the portion of our existence that we know on earth and which we call life, is complicated. It’s fun and funny and tragic and sad and hopeful and peaceful and crazy and beautiful. And in the end, it’s short. And then it’s over.
And a lot of the folks who talked to you, forget you. A lot of the folks who talked about you, stay silent. A lot of the folks who said they cared, stay away. And in the end, it’s you and God. Make your peace with Him so He’ll accept you and call you His child.
I don’t know much about life. But I know this. This is life. In the end, this is it.