A Difficult Task

In the evening I met with the minister and we talked for 1 ½ hour. I was telling him of my mother’s life, what she went through as a Jewess during the Nazi days and also afterwards, how G-d protected and cared for us, and how she and I came to believe in Yeshua being our Messiah. He showed very great interest and would have loved to ask and hear yet more had it not gotten late and he still needed to prepare both for Sunday service and my mother’s and someone else’s funeral on Monday.

Saturday morning a friend from the inter-denominational congregation in Osnabrueck with whom the Lord had connected me 3 years ago drove up to help me with clearing mother’s room at the nursing home. 

It was a difficult task, one I had done once before when I had to dissolve my mother’s household upon her being moved into the lovely nursing home the Lord had provided for her through the agency of my dear lady friend.

I was grateful for my brother in the Lord to help me not only for driving me as I had no car but also with this troublesome task as it kept me from lingering too long, pondering, grieving and undecided about what to keep and what to dispose of. We quickly filled a few boxes with items I wished to keep, the nursing home taking care of the remainders, then we drove back to my friend’s home. There my brother handed me a white envelope: in it were 335 Euro the congregation and his family had collected to help me defray the costs of the funeral.

Thank you Lord! You are so good!

Saturday afternoon the drizzle had stopped and here and there sunshine broke through. On Sunday it was only partially cloudy, but still cold and windy. I had a long visit with my heavenly Father while my friend prepared one of my favorite dishes --- stuffed beef rouladen with Spaetzle and fresh, mixed vegies. Afterwards we took a walk through a lovely park and visited her younger daughter recuperating from manic depression in a special home geared for such patients.

A "Tsunami" Of Grief

I dreaded the next day. I had two shots of burbon to help calm the anxiety. But I clouldn’t sleep. I tossed and turned until I got up again and watched TV – “Babe in the city.” Ha! Absolutely hilarious! That did it! I went back to bed and fell asleep.

Monday morning had dawned – the day so dreaded! I rose early to have plenty of time to abide in the Lord’s Presence. I certainly did not want to face this day without prayer and the comforting strength of His Presence and love. 

My friend and I stepped outside --- into warm sunshine radiating from a deep-blue, cloudless sky. It was a glorious day, as though we were heading toward a wedding and not a funeral. My spirit lifted in view of such heavenly kindness.

We arrived early at the funeral hall where the coffin was already placed, adorned with the most beautiful flower arrangement in cheerful spring colors, and surrounded by candel light on tall iron wrought candle sticks. Colored bright light was bursting through the stained glass windows. Was this to be a funeral? 

The few faithful friends of almost 2 decades had arrived, as well as a few ladies from mother’s former singing group who had read about her passing in the paper. The coffin bearers sat waiting with solemn faces and the organist. Soothing melodies emanated from the organ rather than melancholic tunes of mourning. Outside birds sang so loud that we could hear them on top of the organ, as though G-d had appointed a special choir to accompany the organist.

The minister held a wonderful, sincere speech, truly honoring my mother. He really had listened to me! The moment I so dreaded had come. And no matter how often I told myself that it was merely my mother’s earthen frame which was being delivered into the grave, the finality of my mother’s passing just tore into my heart with relentless force. 

It was not merely the passing of my mother effecting me so, but the fact that she was the last of an entire family that had perished in the Nazi Holocaust, except for a few survivors. All were gone now, none were left, but me alone. The realization of it washed over my heart like a tsunami.

Suddenly my friend’s hand took mine, squeezing gently as she heard me breath heavily, tears streaming down my cheeks. I was missing my husband, children and grandchildren terribly. Oh Lord, why did you not provide for all of us to accompany mother on this day of final farewell? Here I was, the youngest and last of the old generation, with none of mother’s posterity at my side.