Being a pastor's wife can be...interesting. Last night a dear woman in our church passed away. It was expected so while we are sad, we are rejoicing that she is with the Lord. Unfortunately, Troy had a raging fever and could not go to the nursing home where she was to be with her husband. Double unfortunately, our associate pastor was busy running the youth group so Troy couldn't send him in the middle of his lesson. This woman had a special place in my heart and I knew that her husband needed someone so I volunteered to go. I was a little apprehensive about going--I've never gone to be with the grieving like that before. So I called for reinforcements and the previous pastor of our church and his wife went with me. (THANK YOU!)
As I was preparing to leave, The Rock Star begged me to take him. He'd picked up on enough of the conversation to realize that she'd died--although, the concept is still a little difficult for him to comprehend. Heck, I think the concept is still a little difficult to me to comprehend sometimes.
G: What happened to Miss Flora?
Me: She went to be with Jesus.
Me: Because Jesus wanted to see her really, really bad.
That pacified him and I told him he needed to stay home and take care of his sick daddy for me.
The night went fine. I'm sure I could have been more comforting, more spiritual, more of something but in the end I just kind of listened and hugged and tried my best. That's what Troy told me to do so if it was all wrong, I blame him. Well, actually, the hug part was my idea. I'm a hugger. She was there and it was the first time in my 28 years that I'd actually seen a person in that state. Her husband and I agreed that she would have been glad to know she was my first.
This morning Troy left to meet her husband at the funeral home. Garrett asked him why he was meeting him and he replied that Mr. Roger needed someone to be with him. He walked out the door.
G: I'm so sad that Miss Flora died.
Me: Yeah. Me too, Buddy.
G: It's so sad that Mr. Roger doesn't have Miss Flora to love anymore.
Honestly, I can't remember if that is exactly what he said but it's close. I was so busy kissing his head and telling him what a sweet boy he is to remember it word for word. He has a tender heart, that one. I think he will grow up and love someone fiercely, protectively, wildly and tenderly. I think it will make me incredibly proud.
First he'll turn into a teenager. His room will smell and he'll think I'm the dumbest person on the planet. But then, if I'm lucky, he'll love someone like that.
I'm heading out of town tomorrow. Posting will be sparce. Have a happy early February.