Today at 1 pm, we attended the funeral of my great aunt Gladys. She was 84 years old. When I was just a kid (early teens and such) I used to stay with her and Uncle Carl when Mom and Dad were out of town at church conferences. Her son, Terry Dale, was about the same age as me. we reminisced about those days a bit today. It was bittersweet to see some family I hadn't seen for so many years.
I left school early to go to the funeral, but had to be back for a staff meeting and open house. While I was in the staff meeting, Tammy called with the news that our next door neighbor, Mrs Vivian, had passed away this morning. She was 56 years old.
I don't know if I have any more tears left in me.
I do know this, if I have to listen to "go rest high on that mountain" one more time while looking at a dead relative, I will go strangle Vince Gill myself. I love the song, but I am so tired of funerals.
It is most fortunate that this numbness still hangs on. The overwhelming sadness and darkness threatens to overtake us all. Only the tender strength of God sustains me.
My friends and co-workers are becoming afraid to be around me though. I think they are afraid something will jump on them.
I will persevere.
Nothing is going to hold me back.
There may be a catch in my throat sometimes, there may be a falter in my step, but I will still go on.