I’m writing to you from Charlotte once again. We’re here for a business meeting and to bury Vernie’s urn. Still a little hard to believe she’s gone.
I wanted to share a few photos and stories from her funeral.
It was such a wonderful day with the only challenge being a technical issue. I had spent about thirty hours sorting through hundreds of photos and getting them in a slideshow with coordinating music and transitions. When we got to the church to get it all set up, there was an issue in the system that caused a buzz in the soundtrack. In between all the details of getting ready for the service, Sarah, Gage, Nathan, and I were running around like crazy people trying to troubleshoot an alternate way to play the slide show. I am very proud of my ad hoc tech team because between the three of them, they came up with about five different solutions: however, without certain kinds of equipment and connections, none of them was going to work.
Finally, 10-15 minutes before the service (when my nerves were in a tizzy and my deodorant had ceased to work), Nathan thought about using a blue tooth speaker which the church just happened to have. lt was from the youth house and had flashing disco lights on the front which I am certain would have given Ken and Vernie a smile. When it was time for each of the two videos, Nathan went to the laptop on the platform and started the music while the guy up in the tech booth started the slideshow. Miraculously, they synched up pretty well.
So I just want to take this moment to thank my kids and be grateful that they put their whole hearts into finding a solution–for their grandma’s service and for their frazzled mom’s nerves.
One of my favorite parts of the funeral had its beginning the day before when Steve and his brothers got together to practice their songs for the service. After a few go-arounds of Blackbird, the grandkids, who were listening with rapt attention, started tentatively singing along on the refrain, “Blackbird fly. Blackbird fly.” When the voices started to get a little more enthusiastic and strong, it was decided by unanimous consensus that small voices singing at great grandma’s funeral would be just the thing.
What a joy to see them up there with their dad, grandpa, and uncles.
Here’s a video I took of the rehearsal before the service. started. I love how Andrew makes his little appearance at the end. He never likes to be left out of anything.
Gage got in on a song, too, but you’ll have to take my word for it that the partial face peeking out is actually him.
Nathan spoke some very heartfelt words, as did Sarah.
Steve’s memories of his parents were very dear. (We also honored Ken in the service since Covid kept us from having a public service for him.)
I especially loved this photo Meagan took. There is no better place for a child to rest than on a church pew, surrounded by songs, prayers, and love. My kids have taken many dozens of naps on many dozens of pews.
When the service was over, sons and grandsons carried the casket out the front door to the waiting hearse.
Steve even managed a smile for me.
I’ll close with two special memories:
After the kids had gone to bed the night before the funeral, I played the funeral slideshow I had made for the six adults. When it was done, there was complete silence in the room for about five seconds. And then the room was filled with our shared weeping as we were bound together by love and memories. I’ll never forget those moments–the hugs, the passing of the Kleenex box, the blessing of sitting in a room together, sharing our tears.
And the second memory:
An hour before Vernie’s funeral, the immediate family gathered in the church parlor to pay our final respects. The grandchildren were lovingly shepherded by Nathan and Meagan who kept watch over small, broken hearts. A couple of the kids wanted to touch Vernie and they asked Nathan and Meagan a few questions. But mostly, there were tears. Lots of tears.
I happened to be standing near Madi as she began to cry and immediately put my arms around her to comfort her. She wanted to go sit down on a nearby bench, so I sat with her for about ten minutes, stroking her hair, smoothing her dress, soothing her heart. What a privilege and honor to get to be there with her at that moment in her life, while right next to us, Nathan and Meagan were doing the same for the other three kids.
As I sat there with my dear granddaughter, I was reminded that forty years ago, in that very room, I had donned a borrowed wedding dress with my dear mom at my side–a mom who is stepping closer and closer to heaven’s gates.
I was nineteen. Mom and Vernie were in their late forties. It was a whole lifetime ago.
As a young bride, I couldn’t have imagined the turning of the years; couldn’t have imagined that one day I would stand again in that same room with memories of my wedding, memories of mom, and memories of Vernie swirling around me.
On that last day that we saw Vernie, she was wearing the wedding pearls she had on sixty-eight years ago when she said “I do” to Ken. She was wearing the same dress she had worn at my own daughter’s wedding. She was in the middle of a circle created by all the people who loved her.
Circles. Circles of love. Circles of grief.
And speaking of circles, I have come full circle–from being a naive, teenage bride to a seasoned, middle-aged woman, typing this post in my mother-in-law’s living room, listening to the memories in the walls, being thankful for all the laughter and all the tears, holding on to all the moments of the past and the hopes of the future.
These children will remember their great grandma’s funeral for the rest of their lives. They will remember singing, “Blackbird” with their dad and uncles. They will remember crying around the casket.
Life will come around full circle for them, too. But the beauty of it is that when that full circle does back around, it will be stitched together with the love from both great grandmas and all the gifts they passed down–to their children and to their children’s children.
What about you? What memories do you have as a child after a loved one passed away?
What a beautifully written post. The short clip of Blackbird is so very precious. My earliest memory of a loved one passing away is probably when my mama died (I was 9). I don’t remember the service itself, but remember the day after, when out of town relatives left how lonely I felt. I still have a picture of some of her family that I took just before leaving for the church and it is so precious to me. (Taken with an instamatic and printed as a triple shot – remember those, where the main picture was probably about 3″x 3″ and there were two little copies at the right that were about 1.5″x 1.5″) And I remember at the graveside service the “dirt” was stacked in blocks because the ground was frozen – Early February is pretty cold in West Virginia. I was an adult before I realized the blocks of earth was because of the temperature, not because they were for a grave. You and your family remain in my thoughts and prayers.
Sue Ellen,
Talking about Instamatic photos is definitely a trip down memory lane! So glad you have those memories captured on film; such a treasure.
I had never heard of dirt being stacked in blocks, but it makes sense in a cold climate.
I’m sorry you lost your mom so young; I can’t even imagine.
Oh bless those kids. Their tech knowledge is amazing, isn’t it?
Funeral gatherings are so bittersweet… sadness and tears coupled with joy over being all together.
Continuing to hold you up in prayer as you grieve and mourn Vernie and for your mom too as she gets closer to heaven’s door.
Lee Anne,
I love the line “closer to heaven’s door.” That’s good place to be when you are 87 and the appeal of this life on earth fades a little more with every day.
Thanks so much for your sweet words and your prayers.
Here I sit reading this with tears. What a beautiful funeral you had for her and how nice to get her hubby Ken recognized too.
I was 13 when my grandma died and I was standing at the back of the funeral home for visitation the night before the funeral and my dear great aunt Sue grabbed me and pulled me up to see grandma. That was kind of traumatizing. When my dad passed away when I was 27 I couldn’t wait to go see him in the funeral home. I needed that closure. He had sunburned his head and it was still peeling on him and we all said it looked like he should just sit up and laugh at us for thinking he had passed away,
Thinking of you too with your mom. How I miss my mom! Wendy
Wendy,
Yes, I agree that children should never be forced to go look at someone who has died; I know that was very traumatizing for you.
And how wonderful you look back at seeing your dad in a casket with a smile. Your sunburn/peeling head made me smile. it sounds like he was a fun guy. Hugs!
Beautifully done, Becky. I know how much the grandchildren will enjoy reading your Blogs over the years to come. Blessing to you.
Yvonne,
Thank you for commenting, Yvonne!
That is my hope for this blog that it will be a written history of the big and small events in our family. And it also gives me an outlet for my writing and photography and has introduced me to wonderful people from around the world. It’s a win-win!
I’ve been catching up on my Smithellaneous reading… I’ve found the recent posts hard to get through because of my grandfather’s death in January, and my continued struggles with my own grief. There are a lot of parallels and while they’re beautiful they’re also hard!
I was thinking about your question — What memories do you have as a child after a loved one passed away? — and realized that I don’t really have any, because nobody in my family died when I was a kid. I was 14 when my great grandmother passed away, but I didn’t know her very well and we didn’t go to her funeral; I’m actually not even sure that there was one. The first really deep loss I experienced, I was 17, and it was a 4-year-old boy who died, so it’s not quite the same.
It’s awesome that Nathan and Meagan are willing to answer the questions — some of which I imagine were hard or uncomfortable — that their kids had. And it’s also awesome that the kids were included in the day, not shuffled off to be ‘seen but not heard’ and left to deal with big feelings by themselves. You must be so proud of the parents your son and daughter-in-law are!
A random note – reading your comments about napping on church pews I was mildly horrified! The picture hadn’t loaded yet, and all I could think of were the very hard, slightly sloped forward church pews of my childhood. They would NOT have made a nice place for a nap! But when I saw the actual image I realized my mistake. Those look incredibly comfy!
Kristina,
You had just come to mind the day before you commented; I was wondering where life had taken you. Good to see your name pop up.
I can imagine that these recent posts would be hard for you to read as you are still in a place of grief over your grandpa. Sometimes reading someone else’s experience is helpful; sometimes it is just hard. Thanks for venturing through some of the posts, regardless.
Yes, we are so proud of Nathan and Meagan. They are raising some good grands!
I’m glad you finally got the visual of the pews. I agree; some pews are not good for napping at all!
I was about 4 months shy of 5 when my maternal grandmother passed away. I remember my mom getting the call and remember going to the funeral. After the funeral, a couple that were friends of my parents took my brother and me to their house. My younger brother never knew this grandmother as he was born over 3 years after she passed. Ironically his kids never knew their maternal grandmother either as she passed several years before they were born.
The great grandchildren signing with their grandpa, dad and uncles was priceless.
Phyllis,
I’m sorry you’ve had two maternal grandmas die so young they weren’t able to get to know all of their grandchildren. That is a hard thing.
Yes, I loved seeing the kids sing. I think there should always be young voices heard at an elderly person’s funeral. It reminds us all that life goes on.
Becky, the photos are awesome. Really love the children singing with Steve & Nathan, the sons & grandsons carrying the casket and you & your Mom at your wedding.
I was very close to my Dad’s parents, Mattie and Ernest aka Mammie and Pa. Pa passed away at age 69 when I was 14 years old. Pa’s death was hard for me to understand, I loved him dearly. Mammie passed away in the mid 80’s. I loved her dearly as well, an equally difficult time in my life. Mammie & Pa had a beach house at the 4 mile post in Kitty Hawk, the beginning of my connection to the NC Outer Banks.
I really admire how you and Meagan comforted the four children during the Memorial Service, so very important. Love the photo of Madi and her brothers watching Vernie’s casket being carried to the hearse, heart breaking but part of life’s circle.
Gloria,
How wonderful that your Mammie and Pa introduced you to the Outer Banks; I know you made many memories here with them. Grandmas and grandpas have such a special role in their grands’ lives; so hard to lose them at any age!
What a beautiful post. You have such a gift with words.
I do remember my grandfather’s funeral when I was 10 – that was my earliest one that I remember – because he wore his overalls and plaid shirt in the casket. My dad was so stoic (and remained that way his whole life) even though he was only 30. My younger son does not remember his paternal grandmother (or her funeral) even though he was 6 when she passed away. I’m betting the Smith children will remember because they participated and that is such a blessing.
Lifting you all up in prayer.
Suzanne,
Thanks for your encouragement about my writing; I appreciate it so much!
I just love the visual of a plaid shirt and overalls in a casket. I’m sure that brought smiles to many faces in the midst of a difficult time.
Yes, I am hoping our older grands at least will remember Vernie’s funeral. As you said, it makes a difference when they are able to participate.
I’m so glad for your grandchildren that they were allowed to be part of their great-grandmother’s funeral. So special for them that they will have memories of her. She certainly was given a wonderful farewell, but you all must be exhausted. God be with you.
Liz,
Yes, I am thankful the grands got to be a part of the sendoff. Even though it was sad at the time, those memories will become more precious with each passing year.
I was fortunate enough not to have experienced the death of a loved one at a young age, my one grandfather died before I was born and my other grandfather and both grandmothers passed away when I was older….but my best friend lost her husband when she was 38, he was 42 and their girls were just 5 and 7…..my children were 7 and 3 and we were not going to take them to the funeral but our babysitter fell through so we ended up bringing them and it was very traumatic for my daughter. , Rick, our friend who passed away, was a twin and my daughter remembers his brother sobbing on top of the coffin, in retrospect I should have made other arrangements but it was so last minute….and Becky, your post, as usual was so beautiful and so heartbreaking, it brought me to tears….I meant to start out with that…..my prayers and thoughts are with you and your family constantly.
Dale,
It is always hard to know what to do about children and funerals; I’m sorry Rick’s funeral was so traumatic for your daughter.
Losing a loved one is hard for anyone but I can’t imagine losing a twin–almost like losing a part of yourself.
I’m thankful the post as meaningful to you; thank you for your prayers.
Beautiful post, Becky! Beautifully written as if it just came right out of your heart.
When my Granddaddy died, I was 20 and had just had my daughter about 4 months before. All I had wanted was for Granddaddy to be able to meet his first great grandbaby. He did get to see her before he passed but he never got to hold her because they thought he had a staph infection in his lungs and Sarrah was just too little to handle that if she happened to get it from him. That also meant I didn’t get to hug or kiss him during our last visit either. It was heartbreaking for me.
At his funeral, I kept thinking he was going to walk right through the door and say “What is everyone doing here?” I miss him so so much and wish he had gotten to know his great grandbabies!
Lizz,
“What is everyone doing here?”
I love that line and can just hear an old fella saying that and making everyone smile.
So thankful he got to see his great-granddaughter bad sad, along with you, that he didn’t get to hold her and you didn’t get to hug him.
Thank you, Becky for sharing with us knowing that it had to be very difficult. Those blessed children, giving their best to great grandma.
Sharyn,
Those blessed children, indeed. They sure did love their great grandma!
Lovely post, one of your best. Reading I almost felt like I was there. Final goodbyes are heartbreaking and wonderful. You all are in my prayers.
Cindy,
Those were such encouraging words; thank you so much for taking the time to write them.
Thanks, too, for the prayers.
This post almost brought me to tears. Death is so hard. I lost a cousin when we were both 16. He was like a brother to me and I won’t ever forget him lying in his casket in his own living room at home. My sister was 3 at the time and she just told us last week that she could still remember him in that casket in his living room. Life is hard, than we die. Thankful for a Heavenly home awaiting those that believe. Praying for you all as you grieve and await whatever the good Lord has in store next. I for one am keeping my eyes on the Eastern sky.
Kaye,
Wow. That’s a long time for your sister to remember something from such a young age. I can’t imagine how traumatic that was for both of you; especially seeing the casket in your own home. Those memories stick for a long time.
I, too, am thankful for the promise of heaven. Hugs to you.
I like how all the family members contributed at the funeral, youngest to oldest.
I remember the novelty of riding in a limousine to my dad’s funeral at 8 years old. I was so surprised that cars pulled over to the side of the road; people who didn’t even know my dad.
Greta,
That is one of my favorite traditions–when people pull over for a funeral procession. It is such a wonderful way to honor the deceased and the family.
Eight is so young to have to take that limousine ride. I can’t begin to imagine the emotions. Love you!
Beautifully written post. It sounds like some new memories were made at the funeral and days around it. It’s a sad time, but it’s always nice to be around loved ones.
Continuing to hold you all close in prayer.
Krista,
Definitely lots of good memories made, despite the tears and the sorrow. Being with loved ones is so healing.