Shortly after I was released from Tufts Medical Center I began attending church again at St. John's Episcopal Church. Everyone welcomed me and was very solicitous of my well being.
The daughter of a long time acquaintance of mine was diagnosed with leukemia. Cindy, the mother of two sons, was in her late forties. She had surgery twice. They removed all that they could remove. But she did not recover. She was treated at Massachusetts General Hospital. One of the best in the nation.
Her mother, Shirley, is a life-long member of St. John's Episcopal Church. Her daughter converted at marriage to the Roman Catholic Church where her husband was a member. The wake for Cindy was held at a Tyngsboro funeral home. I went with Betty, a close friend of mine, who is also a member of St. John's. It was the largest wake and funeral either of us had ever seen. At least a thousand people attended the wake. It took an hour of standing in line to reach the receiving party! Receiving were the husband and two sons, the husband's older brother and his wife, my friend Shirley and her husband, and the parents of Cindy's husband. When we reached the head of the receiving line, Beverly, Shirley's sister, stepped forward and escorted us through the line, introducing all the members to us. I was presented as a recent leukemia survivor by Beverly, who has survived breast cancer. It was a very gracious thing to do and relieved my anxiety about making an appropriate comment. Shirley told me afterward that the receiving line was five hours long!
My heart ached for Shirley. The loss of a child is especially poignant. Children are not supposed to predecease us. She had a very close relationship with her daughter and had taken care of her during her illness because Cindy's husband was a policeman in Tyngsboro and needed to be on duty as often as possible. The funeral home was beautifully decorated with photo collages of Cindy's life and flower arrangements given by friends and relatives. Policemen were there in force.
When Betty and I left the funeral home we decided to drive to the church since we were uncertain how to get there and the funeral was scheduled to begin at 9:00 a.m. It's a good thing we did because it is a very circuitous route. The church was lovely, sitting in a wooded area, alone. The next morning we arrived early and chose to sit in a row close to the area reserved for the family. It was an extraordinarily large area. Shirley has three sisters and several brothers and many cousins. The church seated 400 people and every seat was occupied. The service was lovely, very personal, and the crowd was very well managed. The eulogy was given by the husband's older brother and it was very well done. The husband stood to thank him and started crying in the middle of it. The older son had written a poem for his mother and the priest read it. Nearly everyone was weeping at the end.
What was I feeling? Guilt. If I were God and could arrange it, it would make more sense to me, for me to have died and Cindy to recover. I am 78. No one would be shocked at reading my obituary in the paper. It makes no sense. I do not know the plan for the universe. I do not know why a young woman who has cancer does not survive and I do not know why a 78 year old woman does survive. I am extremely grateful to have survived and I hope that my survival will result in some good. But I am very saddened by Cindy's death. And I am very sorry for Shirley's loss.
No comments:
Post a Comment