Today I attended a funeral for someone I’ve never met. His widow is a caregiver for family friends who have a daughter in a wheelchair. I’ve seen her a handful of times over the years we’ve lived in southern Illinois and we’ve shared meals with our mutual friends. She is always friendly to my family and loves to laugh.
My heart aches for her. I know she has a tough road ahead of her. Her husband was only 49 and had been battling Melanoma. A disease I’m unfortunately acquainted with, as a widow of a young husband who died of the same cancer.
There isn’t much I can do for her. But I supported her in attending the funeral and can share battle scars when she’s ready.
The pastor did an excellent job, considering he didn’t know the man he was doing the funeral for. He acknowledged everyone’s feelings, he gave the gospel and he let others share what they would want others to know about the deceased. By the time the service was over, those of us who didn’t know him felt like we did. It was one of the best funeral services I’d ever attended. The pastor was humble and did not pretend to know a man he didn’t.
I was glad to do a small thing for this new widow and will share with her and listen if she wants. That’s what humans are for, to be there for those in need. I am just paying it forward, willingly and gladly.