5 weeks
It's been 5 weeks since we laid Nicole Brooke to "rest" they call it. What kind of terminology is that? It's one of those euphemisms we use to make it sound nicer than it really is. Because let's face it: putting a body in a casket, closing and sealing the lid and putting it in a cold dark hole in the ground and covering it with dirt is not nice. It doesn't feel restful at all--it feels downright cruel.
Even now, the memories come flooding back over me. The tears and awful moment of putting Nicole in her coffin, kissing her sweet face one last time and then having to close that lid. There was no beauty in that. The beauty came in knowing that while we were putting her body to "rest", the real and alive part of Nicole was in heaven, wrapped in Jesus' embrace and having a good time.
Watching them put her body in the ground was not fun--in fact, I wasn't even sure I could watch that first shovelful of dirt being put on her grave. It was like those horror movies, too awful not to watch and see. Her daddy helped put dirt on her coffin and he did it so gently, so full of love; her grandpa too. I cannot imagine how hard that was to do and yet they did it because they loved her. While that was happening, I like to think Nicole was up above looking down and watching her daddy and saying, "I love you, but don't cry for me, Daddy. I'm so happy up here. I'm with Jesus and my aunt Martha and my great-grandparents and all my little friends and life is so good up here."
That is the thing that makes this whole death and grieving process tolerable--she is with Jesus--she is happy--Life is good for her. So while the tears come and the grief rolls, I will choose to rejoice with my little daughter in the grandeur of heaven.
Even now, the memories come flooding back over me. The tears and awful moment of putting Nicole in her coffin, kissing her sweet face one last time and then having to close that lid. There was no beauty in that. The beauty came in knowing that while we were putting her body to "rest", the real and alive part of Nicole was in heaven, wrapped in Jesus' embrace and having a good time.
Watching them put her body in the ground was not fun--in fact, I wasn't even sure I could watch that first shovelful of dirt being put on her grave. It was like those horror movies, too awful not to watch and see. Her daddy helped put dirt on her coffin and he did it so gently, so full of love; her grandpa too. I cannot imagine how hard that was to do and yet they did it because they loved her. While that was happening, I like to think Nicole was up above looking down and watching her daddy and saying, "I love you, but don't cry for me, Daddy. I'm so happy up here. I'm with Jesus and my aunt Martha and my great-grandparents and all my little friends and life is so good up here."
That is the thing that makes this whole death and grieving process tolerable--she is with Jesus--she is happy--Life is good for her. So while the tears come and the grief rolls, I will choose to rejoice with my little daughter in the grandeur of heaven.
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