It was a busy weekend. Full in every way, sad in many ways, happy in many ways. There were endings and beginnings and continuations, smiles and tears, firsts and lasts.

I didn’t talk to Esther a lot while she was here, though I went to school with her boys and crossed paths with her many times. I do still remember though one short conversation I had with her after an overly rebellious stint of my own when I left home for a few weeks. Her words were of neither counsel nor condemnation. They were words of encouragement. She told me that she’d had a time in her life when she felt the same way I did and had perhaps even left home because of it. And that spoke to me more than any advice she could have given me. In a way, it gave me hope.

I also remember one time when Marvin’s were over at our house quite a while ago, and Mom and Esther got out the Maranatha Bible School book from the year they’d gone and were poring over it with many memories soaked in laughter. I remember thinking how beautiful they both were then and how even though time had changed them, they were both still beautiful.

Esther is more beautiful now than she ever was here on earth. How could she not be? She is in the presence of Jesus, and no more pain can ever touch her. She is made new, and as I think of her there with James and Orpha and Corinne and others, I wonder if friendships forged on earth will be remembered in heaven. And I hope they will be.

Life continues here, and death touches it with sadness, but it also breathes heaven’s quiet peace over graves that hold the bodies of the redeemed and over the lives that are left here a while longer.

I am reminded again and again that no matter what turn the story takes here, in Jesus the ending is always glorious, and that is comforting. No matter what, God is in control, and He knows His sheep. He calls them by name, and nothing can touch them but what He allows.

Beautiful.

The funeral was an ending for us, but Esther’s beginning came on Monday morning, when she took her last breath in the presence of her family and took her first in the presence of her Lord.

Death helps us re-evaluate. I wasn’t thinking of it yesterday during the stress and busyness of the day, but this morning I thought over the Sunday filled with family, and I was so grateful.

[Isn’t it amazing how much easier it is to be grateful after the fact, when no one is saying things they shouldn’t or being annoying or making things complicated or uncomfortable or stressful? Actually, it has nothing to do with amazing. It has everything to do with taking the wrong or selfish attitudes to God and asking Him to show you the good instead of the bad.]

We had Sunday lunch at my dad and mom’s, and almost everyone was there. I usually remember to take at least a few pictures, but for some reason I didn’t take a single picture till late in the day when we were with Eric’s family for the evening. So all I have is a handful of memories. . .

. . . taking Juli with us rest home singing and being blessed to see her patiently listening to an old lady’s ramblings afterward. . . my niece has one of the sweetest smiles ever
. . . a hubbub of conversation and “please pass the —” at the lunch table
. . . wishing for funny little girls to be there adding their chatter but being glad for funny boys instead
. . . Jason with his arms around the neck of an uncle he hardly ever sees
. . . Jason going down the line of uncles, first Russell, then Andy, then Eric, giving hugs and perhaps back rubs
. . . an amazing blueberry trifle from one mom and then an amazing blueberry delight from the other one later 🙂
. . . washing dishes with Shari and discussing the little girls’ reactions to the coming baby
. . . seeing Russell and Eric riding on the back of Andy’s Camaro down to the bridge and remembering when Tia used to give us children rides just like that
. . . the kitchen sprouting seats via counters and chairs for conversation with Dad’s and Russell’s after the others went their separate ways
. . . Eric and I eating seconds and then thirds of dessert
. . . hugging Russell and Shari bye after hugging them hi only a few hours earlier 🙁
. . . hugging Andy bye before his embarkation on a Hope Singers tour in Poland (he’s likely in the air as I write, so say a prayer for him and the rest of the choir when you think of it)

And then it was on to Eric’s parents’ house to spend time with Colin and JoLynn and their littles while they were around, and of course the rest of the family as well. When we got there, Sienna told us, “I saw you yesterday, and now I see you again today.” Her words kind of summed up how it is to have family close by, in both its good ways and its bad ways. We are so blessed.

I took a few pictures while we were there, but again the memories are mostly just that, memories. . .

. . . Nikki showing me something new like she nearly always does when we come and remembering how welcome that made me feel one of the first times I was there as Eric’s girlfriend
. . . a leisurely supper of leftovers being suddenly overtaken by a barrage of photo albums, much to my delight
. . . this sibling or that one peering over our shoulders as we waded through “the old days”
. . . Mom commenting here and there and giving background for places and happenings that were all new to me
. . . going to Centennial Park to escape the heat of the house and to watch Ian and Alex fly their planes
. . . little boys saying and doing funny things
. . . going back to the house to look at more photo albums and enjoy the afore-mentioned blueberry delight

And then probably the highlight of the whole evening. . . watching old family videos from when Eric was a baby. The quote of the day comes from a chubby-faced, ten-year-old Heidi: “Mom, Eric’s going to roll away!” And I am left with images of a mischievous, little blue-eyed boy waving delightedly from a train seat, from a carousel horse, from the top of a bench where he tried to get as close to the amusement park ride his older siblings were on as he could. I am in love with that sweet little boy, though I didn’t know him then, and I hope that if God one day gives us children, they will have that streak of naughtiness combined with sweetness and that at least a few of them will have those startling eyes that capture and entertain and brim with life.

Thanks to both of our parents for capturing long-ago moments on film so we can share them with each other now. And thank You, Father, for memories and life and family.

Someday these moments will be overshadowed by one eternal moment, but for now, they are precious, and coming on the heels of a funeral, they remind me again to take no one and nothing for granted.