What a difference a day makes is an old adage that calls to all of us. Sometimes it can mean a matter
Of life or death. Just three days ago, my beloved Aunt Liz was this vibrant fifty four year old, a great
cook, a fabulous hostess who enjoyed entertaining friends. She loved to offer one of her scrumptious
meals, laughter filled her living space, mingled with photos of family fun. She own a few trophies, from
a few successful marathon runs. She had a wonderful life. She died.
Her routine physical had been due, during which time she told the Doctors about the discomfort she
was feeling whenever she swallowed.
The laboratory studies suggested further health screening. The Doctors felt that she suffered severe
erosion to the distal end of her esophagus, a byproduct of gastoesophageal reflux disease.
This condition required corrective surgery. Aunt Liz was admitted to the Hospital, the surgery scheduled.
“The procedure was successful” the Doctor said.
But here we all sat devastated, physically and emotionally cold. I was absent in the moment.
“What has happened to the remainder of my Aunt Liz’s life?” I kept asking myself.
“Her life force, where had it gone?”
The thing that allowed her to be vibrant, to talk, to breathe, to smile to Interact with her family and
friends, to run the marathons was gone forever.
I wrestled with her untimely death. It seems to have happened without warning. The family members
and friends were gathered here today for a final celebration of her life.
An eerie silence hovered over the Chapel. That silence was interrupted at times by sniffling
whispers, a quick exchange of a sad expression, hysterical jerky hugs and trembling wet handshakes. An
intensive heavy cloud of sadness hovered overhead, and dramatically contradicted the program’s
title “A Home going celebration.”
The attendees reluctantly took their assigned seats. They followed the mortician’s directives,
moving like soldiers on a most dreaded drill assignment. They looked like round hypnotized tin solders
Who had been placed in a square march. Their movement reflected the dread of bidding farewell to the
beloved deceased.
I am a family member and I felt as if I was not there, but was observing from a distant place. It was as
if I was watching a slow motion film, for which I had been cast, and was physically there, but was
unable to participate or be present.
I was busy planning the funeral; there was no time to grieve. I sat here cold and physically present but
Not involved. I felt as if grief had accumulated and would engulf me. I could not express it and I ask
myself this question.
“Could I control it?”
And the questions just kept on coming.
“What happened to the force that allowed her to live?”
“Where is her life force?” I continued to ask the questions “Oh dear Lord please help us through this.” I silently prayed.”
The program began, with the reading of an Old Testament scripture and immediately followed by
a new testament scripture.
There was continuous soft sobs and sniffles throughout the readings.
The program announced an old Fashion hymn entitled ‘His eye is on the sparrow.”
The talented singer rendered a heart wrenching rendition of the hymn which added more saddened
fuel to the already sad chapel causing high definition sobs, making them significantly
louder, much longer and creating a mournful serenade choir of criers.
An invitation was extended to the audience, asking anyone who so desired to share a memorable
encounter that they had shared with Aunt Liz.
The brave of the group took to the podium, one after the other, determined to have their say. The
Parade of mournful speakers dwindled, and the mortician began to approach the podium, when
suddenly a voice from the audience raised her hand and said.
“One more please?”
The mortician nodded his head and gestured to her giving his approval. She appeared eager and dis-
-played a level of energy that the previous speakers did not have. She began speaking before she got to
the podium.
“She was not my blood mother.” She began.
“But she was my mother” she continued.
Upon reaching the podium, she continued, she her speech with increased enthusiasm.
She did not need the microphone.
“No, she was not my blood mother, but she was a mother to me.
“I share this in appreciation of a life that I was privileged to share. I thank God for the time that I
Had with this wonderful lady and I share with you, some things that she shared with me.”
“So” she continued with the energy as when she began, and looking all over the audience.
“So everyone, I would like you to join me in focusing upon the days of her life, as oppose to the day
of her death .Her life was many days, her death happened in one day. Let us focus upon her life.
This is from her, for she gave me many lessons which she premised with the phrase,
“If you start your day without me….”well,”
“Three days ago I started my day without her.”
She began reading from a document entitled “If you start your day without me, which was a
Piece of poetry that she had written that summarized many life lessons, and the love that she had for
Aunt Liz. They shared a beautiful mother daughter relationship.
She was one of the many young women that Aunt Liz would take to and from school.
Aunt Liz took her own children, and offered to take any other child who needed her help.
Upon completion of the piece of poetry, she asked this question.
“Where has the life force gone? It’s the life force that’s missing. She continued to speak. I was jolted by
her question, for that was my question.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” she continued.
“Have you really thought of the life force?
“I have” I whispered. I wanted to answer her.
“Have you tried to define it for yourself?” she asked.
I was not sure if I had thought of it in this context or dwelled upon what kept us living. I was spellbound.
I felt connected to this young woman, perhaps because we shared some of the same questions.
“The life force” she continued, “Is the very breath of the almighty creator, who entrusted into our
Dirt being, the only thing that is powerful enough to render life, of causing us to move, breathe, do
and to be. The activity of the life force is big and is ever active in each of our lives...We can never define
it in its totality. It forced a former mixture of dirt from the earth and transformed it into a living soul. This
great force impregnates each and every cell, and allows every organ to perform as it was created to
perform. These organs did not just perform, but they performed simultaneously and in perfect harmony.
Mommy Liz is not physically with us today for we have started our day without her. Her spiritual gift
I believe was nurturing, for that’ spirit of nurturing propelled her into being the mother that she was.
Her service has ended; if she was here she would say to you “We serve a mighty God. Our God is a God
of order, there is a plan for each life. In addition to our life, we were each given a spiritual gift. Our goal
would be to discover our gift, and make a contribution to the world and In doing so we make the world
a better place.
It is God’s breath, or the life force that has left the body.
Many believe that this force is so powerful it can damage mirrors or windows. Grandmothers have
Been known to scurry to protect mirrors by covering them with a thick padding and opening windows to
allow the force to move freely.
The life force is a great power that was released, as breath exited the body.
When the life force excited the body of Christ, it was a great power that was released as is found
In Mark 5: 37-38” And Jesus cried out with a loud voice, and gave up the ghost.
Then the veil of the temple was torn in twain from top to bottom.
The life force is God’s breath, the breath of the living God, who entrusted his living breath to
enable us to experience life. God is our source, and without his life force we can do no-thing, no
living, no breathing, no life.
This body’s life force is gone, it has returned to he who gave it, God almighty.
Yes, I started my life three days ago without her, but II will have loving memories to hold onto
for a lifetime
We who are here shred her life and now we share the loss. We can love and support each other,
grieve together and understand that it is okay to grieve. Our tears bring healing and point us toward
renewal. That is what she would want.
“I wonder what they are doing in heaven today” she began to sing and continued singing as she
moved in the direction of her seat. She sat quietly and remained still.
The audience joins her in song. As the song ended they were transformed.
There was a burst of interactions with expressions of feelings that were so similar, Offers of love,
And support. Together they shared each other’s burdens.
I got answers to my question, and an answer to my prayer.
The initial cloud that hung so heavily was now lifted. It was replaced with hope and energy.
It was infectious. There was energetic movement. The silence was exchanged by soft verbal statements.
The new statements were expressions of love and peace.
I saw a few smiles. Life must go on. There began a upsurge of warm hugs, and soon everybody was
hugging each other with a new found joy. The large group of family and friends began participating in
the celebration, in the way that it was meant to from the beginning...
They acknowledged their life force and continued interacting in a way that suggested that they
understood that today is the day that the Lord has made, let us be glad in it. Surely, every day is a
blessing, there are many reasons to celebrate, even at “A Home going Celebration.”
