Remembering the Wake

A year ago today, our family got dressed in black and assembled in a Chicago funeral home for Nate’s wake, a difficult day that began rushing toward us the moment he died. Thinking back, I remember with a shudder how I felt as we drove the old mini-van from Michigan to Chicago. Nelson was at the wheel, others were in the back, and my mind was swirling with a thousand details. Had we covered all the bases? Were we factoring in the time change from EST to CST? Did we bring the programs? Would we be able to bear what this day would bring?

But God was ready with a special something to calm my fears and bring a measure of peace. As we drove, my cell rang, and I heard the unmistakable Scottish accent of Colin Smith, our former pastor. He would be doing Nate’s service and was calling to reassure me. Reminding me Nate was  in the presence of Christ on this day, he pulled my attention toward eternal positives and brought welcome relief to my spirit.

I also remember walking into the funeral home, greeted warmly by the personnel there, on a day when my frame of mind was freezing cold. The low point of the day came as I stepped into the room where Nate’s casket was positioned at the far end, wondering if my knees would buckle.

Seeing him there was a more powerful confirmation of his death than seeing him at home in the hospital bed immediately after he died. Lying in the bed he looked exactly as we’d expected at the conclusion of terminal, stage 4, pancreatic cancer. At the funeral home, in a casket, dressed in a business suit and wearing make-up, he looked out of place and awful. It was hard to look at his face, because that wasn’t my Nate.

Today I’m remembering with gratitude the long line of sympathizers who made the effort to attend that wake, who greeted me with memories of Nate and words of reassurance. As I hugged people, without realizing it I gradually inched away from Nate’s casket toward the back of the room. Several good friends tapped me on the shoulder and said, “You ought to move back toward Nate.” But I was far more composed half-a-room away.

In thinking back to Nate’s wake, my wish is that I could watch a video replay of each attendee and listen to our conversations again. So much of it was blurred because of the strain of that day. But I do remember the warmth that flowed over me as I received people, a stark contrast to the trembling cold I felt while looking at Nate’s body.

My family and I are still in the land of the living, which makes standing next to the dead an alien experience. But by God’s design, one day all of us will again stand next to Nate, who will be very much alive and well. That joyful truth will be the grand finale of his sad earthly wake. As rough as that day was, it wasn’t God’s final word.

There will be much more to the story.

”We will not be spirits without bodies. While we live in these earthly bodies, we groan and sigh… We want to put on our new bodies so that these dying bodies will be swallowed up by life.” (2 Corinthians 5:3-4)

3 thoughts on “Remembering the Wake

  1. Hi Margaret,
    I have gone back to your “One Year Ago- The Last 24 Hours” blog several times because of the youthful picture of Nate at the bottom. Another blog was titled- “One Year Ago- A Photo Speaks.” Seems like that title would have captured the picture I keep staring at. Of course, it could be Nate’s boyish good looks that captivates me :), but there is something otherworldly in it. Philip Yancey writes that there are many things here that are rumors, whispers of another world. I couldn’t help but be reminded of that as I looked at that photo and considered it again as I read your Scripture post-script at the bottom of this blog.
    That picture of Nate exudes a joy, a clearness, a wholeness that to me whispers of the redemption that awaits us. And like the verse says, we will again be housed in real bodies… not like these temporary tents that are of no use to hold life when collapsed and taken down.
    God has done remarkable things in your heart and spirit as He has ridden that surf board with you. The contrast between the rawness of your writing last year, and the quiet confidence and strength in your reflections now, is marked. I am reminded of Mary, the sister of Martha, who because she spent her time sitting at the Lord’s feet, she was prepared to worship at His feet when the crisis of Lazarus came.
    No one would choose the path you have been on, but when it was the one laid out for you, you took hold of His rod and staff and started the journey. Your courage and His faithfulness is cold water to so many dust stirring travelers on the same road.
    Love,
    Terry

  2. There are no words to convey my thoughts for you at this time, Midge; Terry Davis – you said it VERY WELL!
    May God bless each of you.

  3. Margaret, as I have been impacted by your resolve this past year to LIVE each day despite your spirit-numbing grief, I see this pattern of……challenge, crisis, choice to trust, and courage to move forward. You have no idea how life imparting that has been…a steady diet for us readers, of reality-life-faith-sorrow-joy. And that doesn’t even say it right….because they can’t be broken down into bits like that. They are all one grand picture of a woman of faith. My dear mom-in-law quietly left this world Friday morning. How GRATEFUL I am that we had this year with her, and all of us rejoice that she has shed the worn out body and is free and happy once more. But I will grieve with HOPE!! Because you have so clearly marked the path of sorrow, and it is not overgrown with roots, but leads to deep peace. More love to Thee, O Christ…more love to Thee. Thank you for ever pointing us to the One who holds the keys to death….and guarantees life that is truly life.