funeral

Ghosts 16

M G Kizzia Leave a comment

Nathan found himself in a funeral home.  He did not have to guess what was going on nor for whom the festivities were.  Since Nathan got cremated, they had no need for a graveside ceremony.  He listened from the door as the minister up front droned on in the funeral service.  The man talked about the love of God, but he hardly understood what he was talking about.  Still, he did get one thing right: that God loves us and he is merciful and giving, and right then and there Nathan changed his tune from accusing God of setting him up to thanking God for Mya.  He felt he could hardly thank God enough.

This man also talked of perpetual light.  Nathan could vouch for the light.  He saw the angel and the old woman who knew all about loving God.  Nathan knew that love was the key.  He remembered the phrase about faith, hope and love, and the greatest of these is love, he thought to himself.  And again, he knew that was true.

After the formal service, they had a receiving line where everyone who attended, most of whom were church members or childhood friends of Stephen or Susan, could pay their condolences.  Nathan got in the back of the line and he thought of everything he wanted to say.

He never knew what love really was until he met Mya.  His mother had been bitter from her childhood days in the war.  His wife found him convenient for a time, and he thought he loved her, but now he realized he really did not.  He just grabbed at what he saw as a kind face that would feed back to him what he needed to hear.  When she realized he would never be president of the company, she dumped him.  But for a minister?  Well.  He shrugged it off.

He thought he should apologize to Lisa.  He never told his daughter about love.  He never taught her because it was something he did not understand himself.  That seemed a terribly sad thing both for him and his daughter, but he supposed it could not be helped.  Even sadder was watching her perpetuate the cycle of the lack of love.  She drove her husband away, scum that he was.  Nathan had no doubts about that.  And then she proceeded to pass the same dysfunction on to her two children.

Susan, just like her mother, got harder and crustier every day.  Her two perfect children were perfect because they did not dare step out of line.  Yet Nathan had learned something about human nature in the last day or two.  Human nature stayed very resilient.  God made it so.  Nathan imagined in the years to come one or both of those children would become true rebels.  He only hoped and sent up a little prayer that it would not be the self-destructive kind of rebellion that lead to everyone’s heartbreak and an early grave.  He hoped something good might come out of it, like a new view of life and a real chance at love.

Stephen, on the other hand, had married a wonderful girl.  Too bad he was such a pin head.  He would lose her, Nathan had no doubt, and with her his great-grand.  She seemed the only child of his issue that maybe had a chance for real life.  God, how he wished he could be there to watch her and help her grow along the way.  He wished he could be there now since now he knew what love was.

The line shuffled forward slowly and Nathan came to realize there were more people there than he imagined there would be.  He had supposed that it would be a very small affair.  Most of his old friends were already dead; well, just about all of them, and the few survivors were in far-away places, mostly below the Mason Dixon line in retirement communities or nursing homes.

Nathan jumped, just because he could.  He turned twenty-something years old and he felt so glad he would never see the inside of one of those nursing homes.  Maybe that suicide bomber did him a favor, and he grinned and thanked God again for yet another thing.  He felt the love of God very strongly at that moment, and he loved God right back just as strongly as he could.  God is good.  He kept thinking that, and he wondered if that might be something he could tell Lisa.

Lisa, I am all right.  God is good.  Don’t worry about me.  I have met the most wonderful girl, make that woman, and I am going to be with her, God willing, and happy forever.  To be sure, God gave her to me and she is everything I ever dreamed of.  She is twenty-something, but so am I now; but you know, even if she were seven, I think I would become seven just so I could be with her.

He paused.  With that thought, he watched the last of his reluctance slip away.  It did not matter if they were both seven or both eighty-four.  He just loved her.  He just wanted to be with her, and she wanted to be with him, and that was that.

Lisa, I know I will be very happy; and he did know it.  I pray that you will be happy, too.  He could only pray for his daughter.

Then Nathan hit on a thought.  It was not the goodness of God that was Lisa’s problem, but her trust.  She was unable to trust God, or anyone else for that matter.  She had an incessant need to be in control, to never let anything be out of control, to be in charge to be sure things stayed in control, the way that she wanted them to be.

Lisa, he wanted to say, there is so much in life, in this world that we cannot understand when we are in the middle of it.  There is so much we cannot control, my own demise being exhibit “A.”  You can’t be in charge of death, or the weather, or the way other people think and feel.  At some point, you just have to let go and let God, as the Baptists say.  At some point, you just have to trust in a God that is even greater than I can imagine, and I am standing on the cusp of running into him.  At some point, and honestly it is at all points in life, you can only do so much and then you have to trust God to work things out; and, you know?  If you will just give God a chance to be in charge, if you will just let God be in control, you may be surprised, like me, when he works things out in a way that is more wonderful and incredible than you can ever dream or imagine. Please, Lisa, just give God a chance.

Nathan thought all of these things and more, but then he came to stand before his daughter.  He felt flabbergasted when she reached out and shook his hand.  She squinted at him for a moment as if trying to place him and even asked, “Do I know you?”

Nathan startled her by kissing her on the cheek.  “Just in this,” he said.  “That God loves you and wants the best for you if you will let him give it to you, and your father loves you, too, and he will always love you even if he never told you so.”  Then he rushed down the line without speaking to anyone else until he came to Stephen’s daughter, little Emily.  He kissed her smack on the forehead.  “Be good and live a good life.”  He told her.  “And always remember that God loves you and your great-grandfather loves you too.”

“Grandpa Nathan?”  Little Emily looked up at him and he winked and ran out of there as fast as he could.  He knew where Mya would be and he did not want to be late.

Ghosts 15

M G Kizzia Leave a comment

As the mist faded, Mya felt utterly lost and alone.  The fact that she found herself in a graveyard did not help one bit.  When she looked down, she saw it was the grave of her own grandfather.  They left a space beside him for her grandmother when she died, but Mya knew Grandma still lived because so far, the space remained untouched.  So why am I here?  She asked herself.  She could not see anyone around.  It was a slow walk in those heels to get to the top of the little hill, but she made it without mishap.  She looked all around and saw herself not far from a canopy tent.  Chairs had been set up there, and a little grave with the coffin waiting to be lowered to its final resting place.  Mya knew whose grave it was before she saw the stone that would be set up.  It was her own, and she tried to cry.  She felt she should cry for herself, but she could not cry.  She felt much too happy about Nathan.

Nathan!  That thought ran through her head like a shot.  She had to get back to him, but just then cars began to pull up on the narrow, one-way gravel drive.  People got out and came to the graveside.  Mya recognized a couple of her childhood friends, her best friends, her only friends.  As a child with a crippled foot, she did not have many friends, and that did bring a tear to her eye.

Then she saw her mother and she ran to her and stumbled once because of the heels.  That caused her to think before acting, and in the end, she decided to accompany her mother from a little distance.  Again, she cried a little, because she wanted a hug so badly.

She stood a step back and watched the others come.  Her relatives sat in the chairs.  The others stood, making nearly a full circle around her little grave.  Then the priest came and he talked about the love of God.  She knew that was true, absolutely, and she lifted up her heart to the almighty in thanksgiving for Nathan.  She realized then what Nathan had already figured out in the bathroom; that this whole thing was a set-up from the beginning.  God knew all along that she and Nathan belonged together, but they never would have met if she had not missed the school bus, and they never would have even been close unless they died.

“Thank you,” she cried out to God.  “Thank you.”  And she felt then and there that she truly loved God even as he loved her, and she felt warm and unafraid and never alone.  Still, she understood that for those gathered around the grave, these were hard words to hear.  If only she could tell them.  If only she could assure them of God’s love; but then she knew that they would learn some day, even as she had, and she prayed for every one of them that sat and stood there.

She heard the priest talk about perpetual light, and she thought of the angel who glowed so brightly she could hardly look at him, and again she felt the love of God flow through her, and she reciprocated and loved God all the more, and then all at once she understood something she had not quite understood before.

The priest gave the benediction and Mya drew near to her mother, and she spoke, even knowing that her mother could not hear her.  “Mother,” she said.  “I know what love is.  Mother.  Do you understand?  You did a wonderful job.  You have nothing to be sad about.  I know what love is, Mother.  God is love.  I am all grown up now, Mother, and God has given me the most wonderful man in the whole world to love.  And I do love him, Mother, with all of my heart, but first I loved you, only I did not understand what that was.”  Mya paused and reached out toward her mother’s face, but she did not touch.  All the same she saw her mother turn briefly to look in her direction.  “First with you, and now with Nathan, I know what love is, Mother.  God is love.”  And Mya watched while Sam, Mother’s friend, came up and placed his hand gently on her mother’s shoulder.

“Sam.”  Mother reached up and patted that hand and then kept her hand there as if not wanting him to go away.  “She would have made a beautiful woman,” Mother said.  “I can almost see her all grown up and all filled out.”  Mother tilted her head to the side a little the way Mya did once, and though she did not look at Mya, she spoke this way: “I see her in a purple sundress and lavender heels to match, and she is lovely.  No, she is beautiful.”

“I am so sorry.”  Sam said as Mya leaned forward and kissed her mother on the cheek.  Mother paused and put her hand to her cheek and then began to weep as Sam helped her back to her feet.  Mya watched while Sam escorted her to the waiting limo, and Mya finally cried for her mother.  She knew her mother was only twenty-seven and Sam was not much older.  She hoped and prayed that they would be good for each other and she hoped and prayed that her mother would never forget about love.

“You did I good job, Mother.”  Mya repeated herself.  “I know what love is.”  Then the cars pulled off and Mya thought to run.  She pulled her heels off to run faster because she knew where Nathan would be and she felt if she did not see him soon, she would burst for the love of him.