Vacation Day 8 – When There Are No Flowers

As we walked over the heavy crusted snow our foot steps made small prints on the surface. It is still very much winter in the prairie graveyard – even though spring is just around the corner. The very cold wind that was biting at our ears told us clearly that it will be a while before the springtime actually arrives.

The place is Saskatchewan and my dad’s grave was just up ahead. As we walked to his graveside mom said with some deep feeling, “It has been a longtime since I put any flowers on the grave. Look at all the others that have brought flowers. I just couldn’t get out here without and car… and there was no one to bring me…”

The big lump was in my throat again. It has come back again and again this week. It leaves me without words and almost takes my breath a way. If I try to talk when its there it is very hard to not cry… and even when I try the tears well up and spill out. Tears are cold in the wind.

In May it will be 20 years since Dad passed away. Yet it seems like almost yesterday for me. For Mom it is even closer – it is yesterday.

Together we looked down and she read the words, “In memory of Mother…” and held tightly to my arm. I seemed to know her thoughts – they are my own thoughts as well… ‘We will be here together again some day…’

It was too cold to stay very long. As we walked back to the car I wished I had thought to bring flowers. There was just too much to do. When there are no flowers it is harder.

And yet there is a new happiness welling up inside me as we headed for a warm coffee shop. Dad is smiling I am sure. This is his family and he is proud of it. This is what he asked his son to do. When there are no flowers it is okay… there is family instead and it is very good.

In the coffee shop I broached the topic of the ‘end times’ with mom. Carefully I told her that I had been to visit two funeral homes locally when I was doing my around the city travels. The first one, Speer’s, that had helped conduct my Dad’s funeral and the second one, Lee’s that is part of a chain of funeral homes across North America. I told Mom that I had taken some pictures of Lee’s for my son-in-law Bruce to see as it was part of the organization that he, as a funeral director, works for.

Mom looked at her coffee for a moment and then back at me. It is not everyday that you can speak with your own mom about her death… “You know Mom, later on when you die – and it won’t likely be for a longtime… we will get a big reduction on the funeral costs because of Bruce working for this company.” She laughed with me. I continued, “If he is able to buy his own funeral business some day – the reduction may even be more…” Then we giggled again.

Though unspoken this is a concern that will be thought of a few hundred times in years to come – I am sure. At the moment it is simple reassurance that I am looking to share with Mom.

A Long Ago…
Two young people laughed and giggled their Sunday afternoons together a long time ago. This budding romance happened on the prairie – a few miles south of where were yesterday. They had a whole life time to look forward to. Yes there was a horrible war taking place across an Ocean where many were dieing. But the love that these two young people had was powerful and pure. This love would propel them together for a lifetime. It was the Spring and Summer of 1942. In October 16, 1942 they were married.

For their laughter and wonderful times together I am truly grateful… in fact because of it ‘I am’.
When there are no flowers it doesn’t matter much….

~ Pastor Murray Lincoln ~