When you attend a funeral you can do one of two things. You can carefully hold your emotions just on the surface, being hyper aware of the fallout if you don’t maintain this stance. You choose this route likely because you aren’t ready to let the sadness, the loss, the anger – the reality – sink in. You tell yourself this is not the time or the place, maybe you want to stay strong for those around you, you want to get through this day with some amount of “dignity”, with poise and control. You will let that other stuff happen in private – or maybe you will attempt not to suffer through that process at all.
Or there are those that attend a funeral and let it happen, they let the emotions come as they will, they embrace the healing that can happen by being super present in the moment. They are vulnerable and real to those around them, which is often the very best way to give those we love the freedom and permission to do the same.
I’ve had to attend two funerals for loved and adored parents in the past month, and as I sat at the one on Friday (just two days ago) I felt myself pulling in, maintaining control, being stoic while at the service, but as I was driving home a true flood of emotions rushed over me. And it might not be the emotions you would predict.
As I reflected on my dear friends fathers legacy, through what was expressed by those who loved him dearly during the service, I felt so strongly that the very best thing we can hope for in our lives are relationships that are real and deep and meaningful and lasting. Joie had this in the friendships he took the time to cultivate, and he had it in the love he shared with this family. He lived a simple life in a small Georgia town, but from what was expressed during his service, his experiences were not simple or small and they mattered immensely to those around him.
What came next were the tears of gratitude for the circle of friends I can’t imagine life without. My dear four family friends. Over more than a decade we have forged what is now the very best and truest of friendships. We are there for one another in the good times and bad. We have supported one another and laughed so hard together. We would do anything for one another or for one another’s children. This is not your typical casual adult friendship. We can be very honest and vulnerable, we can trust one another, we lean on one another when times are hard. I can imagine perhaps one day when it’s my funeral, they will be some of the friends who stand up to say a few words about me.
But beyond what we are for one another, and how far we have come from the days of picking a once a month food theme for our get togethers, we are living by example something important for our children. We are demonstrating friendship at its best. We have given our children a tribe of adults they can trust to be there for them. We have, without planning it whatsoever, created certainty in a very uncertain world. We have created trust for others in a world that always questions motive and action. We have created the security of a safe place to be yourself in a world where all too often we have to put on a mask and pretend.
Joie’s legacy of friendship makes me feel very focused on the friendships I am so honored to have. In his memory, and because it is exactly the right thing to do, I will not take these precious gifts for granted. I will cultivate them and cherish them and know that at the end of my life journey it will be my relationships that matter more than anything else.
Devolving.me 