Celebrating a life well lived... Wilma Scott

Today I had the privilege and honor of officiating my first funeral as a pastor.  I have participated in two funerals prior-- one was a memorial for a special young man a year after his death and the other I was asked to share in a service for a lady I had spent time visiting with at a previous church. 

But I hadn't done an official funeral in my role as pastor, nor one in a funeral home.

Until today.

My copastor and I shared the responsibilities and that made it even more special.  To share the experience with my copastor and to be able to honor this woman's life today at the funeral home and at the graveside was a super blessing.

The folks at the funeral home were super in their directions and help.

Rebecca Cook, a friend of the family, sang "Amazing Grace" and "In the Garden".  Her brother-in-law played the violin at the beginning and end of the service.  I didn't get a chance to meet him.  Brian, I believe, is his name.  He played beautifully. 

Wanda, a family friend, read Psalm 23 and also shared some family stories and anecdotes about Wilma.  She brought some sweet moments and humor into the service.

I shared Scripture from John and Pastor Tommy brought the message.

At the graveside, the weather was perfect.  The sun was bright and it had warmed up enough to be outside without a jacket. 

We read a little more Scripture, had a prayer, and Dale shared a very appropriate poem.  Wilma had asked that something be read at the service that would be meaningful to others.  This poem by Rumi is a beautiful poem about death.  It is entitled "When I Die..."

When I die…

When I die
when my coffin
is being taken out
you must never think
i am missing this world

don’t shed any tears
don’t lament or
feel sorry
i’m not falling
into a monster’s abyss

when you see
my corpse is being carried
don’t cry for my leaving
i’m not leaving
i’m arriving at eternal love

when you leave me
in the grave
don’t say goodbye
remember a grave is
only a curtain
for the paradise behind

you’ll only see me
descending into a grave
now watch me rise
how can there be an end
when the sun sets or
the moon goes down

it looks like the end
it seems like a sunset
but in reality it is a dawn
when the grave locks you up
that is when your soul is freed

have you ever seen
a seed fallen to earth
not rise with a new life
why should you doubt the rise
of a seed named human

have you ever seen
a bucket lowered into a well
coming back empty
why lament for a soul
when it can come back
like Joseph from the well

when for the last time
you close your mouth
your words and soul
will belong to the world of
no place no time

~ RUMI, ghazal number 911,
translated May 18, 1992, by Nader Khalili.

Rumi is a 13th century poet.  I have read quite a few quotes off and on by Rumi, but this poem was new to me.  I have come to understand that 'all truth is God's truth', so I enjoy finding nuggets like this one.  It was a blessing that Dale shared this with us today.

I first met Wilma six months ago in the hospital.  Pastor Tommy and I went to visit her together in the hospital. It was our first hospital visit together and my first hospital visit on the appointment.  Wilma had just learned that day from the doctor about her diagnosis.  It was not an easy visit, but it was a good one.  She was strong and positive.  She was encouraging.  We shared, we laughed, we prayed.  From the very beginning she was an encouragement to me.  That day she looked over at Tommy and said to him, "I think I'm going to like her."  She talked about me and Tommy being a good team.

Throughout Wilma's journey she and I spoke from time to time. She came to church when she felt strong and able.  I sent cards. I texted and emailed. 

Tommy and I were going to try to visit her together two weeks ago, but she was too tired from a procedure.  I spoke and prayed with her on the phone Christmas Eve when I learned from her friend Margaret Anne that she wasn't doing well.  Then I visited her in the hospital on Saturday, the day after Christmas. 

She was sitting up in the chair.  One of her sisters, Martha, was there.  I was able to visit with her that day too.  We talked a bit and prayed.  I stayed a little longer than I would normally in a visit, but the timing seemed right.  I had taken one of my wooden prayer crosses with me that day and knew that I was to leave it with her, so I did.  I had also taken my anointing oil and asked her if I could pray with her and anoint her with oil.  She said yes, so I did.  She was encouraging to me in our conversation and shared that God had given her a vision for the churches and for Pastor Tommy and myself.

Even though she was having some pain, she had peace.  She was a beautiful example of finishing well.  She was more concerned about her family than herself.  At one moment while we were talking, she mentioned that she wanted her daughter there.  So I called her and left a message.  Wilma's sister came back in the room and had just been talking with her. 

I met one of the sisters I hadn't met previously, Audrey, and a niece (who is more like another daughter), Elena, on Sunday when I went back after church to visit.  And, sitting on the shelf was a colorful sock monkey that the daughter had brought from home for Wilma.  That was cool.  Something about that just touched my heart and soul. 

When I left, I called the daughter and shared that I thought it was cool, that I had visited her mom again, and for her to let me know if she needed anything.

I went back on Wednesday morning.  Annette, the daughter was there.  I had only met her once, at that first hospital visit.  I was glad that I got to see her again.  A good friend of Wilma's from teenager days, Eileen, was there.  She shared some good stories from the good ole days.  Wilma was being taken care of in the hospital by hospice.  She was resting.  After a little while her daughter woke her up so we could all visit and pray.  It was a sweet time.  I was perplexed by one thing Wilma asked/said.  She mentioned something about me having been around alot of people.  Maybe I should have asked her what she meant.  But I didn't.  The day I had visited her when she sat in the chair, she told me she felt someone sit next to her.  I didn't doubt that she knew Jesus' presence with her.  I wasn't sure if Wilma meant I had been around too many people literally or not, so I told her that in truth I had been taking some time to be at home and had spent some time in the woods with Riley (my husband).  As I have reflected on her statement, I wonder if somehow she knew that I have been with many people at the end of their journey?!?!  Because I have.  It's a journey I have walked with quite a few people over the years.  I didn't ask.  I won't ever know.  It's okay.  What mattered most to me was simply being with in the moment.  Being with the friend, being with the daughter, being with Wilma.

I told Wilma that she had blessed me tremendously, kissed her forehead, and left the room.  The three of us stood in the hallway for a few minutes together before I left. 

To have known Wilma so very briefly and her family even less, I have been very blessed by her life and theirs.  When you meet someone who lives a well-lived life and who lives it well through the dying process, it is special.  I have been blessed to meet several and to share part of the journey with several. 

It was an honor and a privilege to be part of the family's celebration of Wilma' life today.  A very unexpected blessing for me this afternoon was the colorful sock monkey that had been in the hospital room.  Wilma's sock monkey.   Thank you, Annette, for passing along such a sweet and beautiful memory.

Peace and blessings on the journey,

Debra
Click here for the link to Wilma's obituary at Wilson Funeral home.

A link to poetry appropriate to share at death. (http://allspirit.co.uk/poetry/death-dying-grief/)