A time to weep

“For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven: a time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up what is planted; a time to kill, and a time to heal; a time to break down, and a time to build up; a time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance…” {Ecclesiastes 3:1-4}

Yesterday I sent my oldest two off to their first day of a new school year. They’re officially a 4th Grader and a 2nd Grader now. Every August feels like a clean slate when school begins and they move into new classrooms with a new teacher and an opportunity to make new friends. They were so nervous on the eve of their first day, they could hardly sleep. So much about this time of year is exciting and anticipatory, and we look forward to the adventures a new school year will hold. {We also look forward to preschool resuming at the end of this month!}

But, this year our excitement about all that is new is quelled by sadness over the loss of a dear family friend who passed away earlier this week. Her illness was shockingly brief. I haven’t really wrapped my mind around her passing yet because nothing about it seems timely or right.

She and my parents had been in Sunday School together for some thirty years. She’s in birthday party and picnic pictures that predate my memory. Our families shared a few vacations together, she helped host my bridesmaid’s luncheon, she was the first person at the hospital when my dad died, she and her husband walked alongside my mom in the dark days and weeks after his passing, she helped host a baby shower for my firstborn, she waited in the hospital lobby the day that baby was born and was among the very first to hold her, and she and a friend were the first brave souls to babysit all three girls so I could have a morning out when the Preschooler was six weeks old. We’ve celebrated many an occasion and every Easter with her in recent memory. She has been so much a part of our lives for so long that she was like an aunt… like family to us. And, it’s hard to imagine what her absence will look and feel like moving forward.

I’ll miss her playful sense of humor, her sweet smile, and having easy conversation with her ~ the kind you can always pick up with someone you’ve known your whole life. But, this post isn’t about me or what I will miss. I was only a small part of her story. The real story is her family and the way she loved them. Her husband, son, and grandchildren will miss her in ways only they can express. For them, every day will be different from this point on. I’m not sure I’ve ever known anyone more proud of or more dedicated to her people than she was. Truly, her greatest joy was being a mom to her son and a grandmother to her two grandchildren, and anyone who knew her will attest to this fact. She beamed when she talked about them, and they were undoubtedly her favorite topic. She loved her family with her whole being. And, they are who we grieve most for now.

A few months after Dad passed away I was at a women’s ministry dinner with her and we were chatting about this and that. At some point our conversation turned more serious and she said, “You know, Hollie. When David died you didn’t just lose your dad. I lost my friend, and I miss him. I really miss him.”  I know she meant it. And, I know that so many will feel the exact same way about her. We have lost a friend. And, we will miss her. We will really miss her.

The Spouse and I talk a lot about community and how important it is for us to establish a sense of community in the life of our children. With the passing of this friend, I’m reminded again that authentic community is invaluable. And, I’m not talking about some lofty idea of community. I’m talking about doing life together with a group of people. I mean sharing the highs and lows together, doing graduations, weddings, babies, birthdays, holidays, and even funerals together. It takes years of investment and perseverance to create that kind of community and even more work to sustain it. But, it’s surely worth it.

If I’m being honest, we’ve not done a good job of nurturing community in recent years. We moved across town. We’ve changed churches a few times. We’ve chosen safety over risk and comfort over depth. We’ve been slothful with dinner invitations because “the house isn’t ready.” We’ve kept to ourselves “because the kids are young and wild… and we don’t get enough sleep,” and we’ve let important community-building years slip away. I want this to change because I want our girls to know the kind of community I grew up knowing. I want them, too, to have friends who are like family. So, I’m telling myself again this week: rich friendships and great stories are always worth the effort it takes to create them.

The community of our friend will certainly miss her. And, her legacy will be one of faith and family and friendship.

{Meeting our firstborn, February 2007}

Rest in peace, sweet friend. And tell Dad, your old friend, we say “Hello!”