I’m coming home,
I’m coming home,
Tell the world I’m coming home…
Our friends unexpectedly lost their son, so it’s been a difficult week. My mind simply can’t imagine enduring the pain of burying a child, and at times like these I find myself searching harder for the faith that seems to come so easily to those around me.
After the funeral T-man spoke up with what would have been my own question at his age: why did they call it a celebration of life ceremony and not a funeral? We weren’t there to celebrate; everyone was sad.
We explained that we were sad because we couldn’t be with Alec any more, but we also celebrated the life he’d shared with us. He’d touched all of us in one way or another regardless of how well we knew him, and we’d be carrying that with us wherever we went. Alec was truly home now, and we should celebrate for him.
Seeing these geese swoop along the water and up toward the sky is everything that means to me. We’re sad for our loss, but our loved ones who’ve passed on aren’t alone. They’re flying free, back to a home we can’t even begin to imagine.
Riddle from the Middle 