What I'm STILL Learning...

As my friend Ginny would say, "This is a serious blog. Sit down, shut up, and listen."

Yesterday was probably one of the hardest days of my life as we were faced with the funeral of our sweet friend, Ginny. About six years ago, way before she was ever faced with cancer, she asked me to sing a certain song at her funeral. I believe the words I said to her were, "Would you stop it and stop talking about your funeral. Who does that?" Well, she did apparently, and I remembered it.

That was all she said, and she never brought the song up again - until she was diagnosed with cancer a couple of years ago. On what was apparently a particularly hard day, she asked me in front of "witnesses" as she called them, to sing at her service again. I just shook my head and started crying. Now all of the sudden it seemed all too real to me, and I was literally terrified.

So, when she passed last week, I knew it was coming. Her husband, David, called me on Saturday and asked me to do just that. I knew I had to do it for my friend, but I was completely mortified of singing at a funeral, especially one of someone that had made such an impact on my life. But I knew what I had to do.

Those of you who have been to funerals with me know what I'm referring to. I'm a contagious cryer. I can sob at a service of someone I've never even met. I actually did that once when my mom forced me to go to a funeral of one of my great aunts when I was in high school. It was bad...really, really bad. I think she got some comic relief out of it because she was too busy laughing at me rather than paying attention to the service. BTW, thanks for that, Mom.

Anyway...back to my friend. I've known the song selection for years, so I didn't have to learn anything. I just had to get geared up for it...put my game face on and get to work.

I was nothing short of an emotional wreck. I mean a sobbing, tissue grabbing, eye-swollen mess. So many people, myself included, didn't think I was going to be able to pull this off for anyone, much less for Ginny. As Carl and I were practicing the day before, the funeral home pulled up. Now I know these guys do this for a living, but they just wheeled her in and flipped open the lid. WAIT A SECOND. HOLD THE PHONE. I wasn't ready for that. But I think it turned out for the best. I was able to have my own private viewing, sort of speak. I cried, talked to the kids (who were of course with me) about death and heaven, and I then knew I could do it.

The day of the service comes, and I'm still an absolute wreck. My heart is beating out of my chest, it's hard to breathe, and I think I could very easily vomit. I think I'm having a panic attack. But in the back of my mind, I keep hearing Ginny's voice saying to me, "Would you stop being such a baby and shut up and just SING THE SONG! It's just me for crying out loud!" Then I suddenly felt a peace about the whole thing. And she was right.

I had considered, depending on my emotional state, saying a few words before I sang. I had this elaborate speech all prepared in my head, but when I got up to start talking about her, I really didn't say any of it. I just said what came out, what I felt. To me, singing is always the easy part. It's the talking that always gets me. My voice was shaky, but I was able to somehow keep it together.

The song went very well, better than I ever expected. I owe a lot of thanks to Carl for playing guitar for me and for talking me down from the rafters when I called him crying and telling him I couldn't do it. Also a big thanks to everyone who encouraged me along the way, and to Denni for the emotional support she showed to me after I lost it when I finally sat back down.

My point is this: I learned something about myself today. I didn't think I had the confidence to do this, but Ginny knew I could. She wouldn't have asked me otherwise. She's still teaching me things, and I think that says a lot to the testament of her character and her influence on my life.

So, I'm grateful for friends both on earth and in heaven. I'm grateful that I am in a position to bolt off to the emergency room at a moment's notice to be able to tell my friend how much I love her and to say goodbye. I'm grateful that I'm not totally wrapped up in a job, activities for the kids, or other things that don't really matter in the grand scheme of life. I'm grateful for the things she taught me and for the things I'm still finding out along the way.

I'm grateful that Ken and I got to ride to the cemetery with an past pastor from Foundery and get our own little private counseling session along the way. John Humphries is one of the greatest people I've ever met; he makes me want to be a better person. Ginny loved him, and I know she was happy that he spoke about her amazing life.

In fact, she would have loved every minute of the service. She would have loved that a lot of people from our old church were there and that we all sat around and laughed, exchanged pics of the kids, and talked about old times. She would have loved that and would have been right there in the middle of it all. In fact, I think she was.