It poured rain. It teemed rain. Even Noah wouldn’t have been able to get through the rain in his Ark. The church filled with people longing to say good-bye, to support our family, and most of all to honor my mother.
People traveled in the pouring rain to attend my mother’s funeral. The mass was at the church where my mom had served as a Catechist Teacher, a Eucharistic Minister, and many other church positions. It was the Parrish my mom taught as a kindergarten aide.
I was overcome with grief, overwhelmed by the outpouring of support, and hoped it was all just a nightmare that I could wake up from. Then the organist played a high key and my eyes filled with tears. I realized it was not a dream as I touched my partner’s hand.
Following a casket felt very unusual. Was I following death or following life? Was my mom at peace? Many people had shared with me that my mom wasn’t suffering anymore. “She’s at peace” was a line I heard frequently, along with, “I’m so sorry.” Actually, a lot of words of comfort were expressed the week of her wake and funeral, but I couldn’t hear much of anything though my grief.
My family sat in the front pew and listened to a priest friend say the mass. He gave a beautiful tribute to my mother in words and in song. He belted out the Ave Maria like I have never heard sung before. People still speak about that Ave Maria.
Somehow I stayed composed enough to walk to the lectern to give one of the readings. I looked out and saw a crowded church as I opened the Bible. “Love is patient. Love is kind.” (1 Corinthians 13: 4-8) Those are the only words I remember reading – love is patient, love is kind.
I finished the reading, walked past the casket and placed my hand on it, and whispered, “Rest in peace, mom. Rest in peace.”
I have come to realize while she has been resting in peace, I haven’t. My life changed after her funeral; my sleeping habits changed; my memory changed.
Maybe the words “Rest in Peace” don’t need to go to those who have passed away, but to those who have been left behind.
I am learning how to rest in peace. I am learning how to rest and learning peace (12 years later). The rains cleared the day after her funeral and yet they still poured within. May my mom teach me to rest in peace. Amen.
Mary Anne