There is a saying probably well rubbed into
the annals of time, “It’s hardest to show love to those who are closest.” That
sentiment is near at hand these last several days as my family and I are
dealing with the death of one of us. The imminence of my brother’s death, his
colorful personality and life journey are well inscribed if not in the history
books, then at least in the memories and the family lore. Philip was
a character person. Having written somewhat theoretically about end-of-life a
few years ago [i],
this blog will be very different. I now write anecdotally, and I know each of
my siblings could add many variations and probably corrections. I shall try it
this way: First, Did he die? Then secondly, A House Party; and finally, New
Life? Here we go.
Did he die?
I received a text message the morning after
Philip’s passing. This was after the rumor mill had already been active
for a day or two - customers at my younger sister’s and my brother’s local
businesses enquiring, and they were not able to provide clear answers. As soon
as I received the text I notified with an email to the whole clan. Next up were
the funeral queries. Where, when? Now I really felt badly for my younger sister
and brother as again they did not have an immediate answer. I was invited, the
only family member to make the cut among friends and fans!
Thoughts to myself: I shall participate in
this gathering which will be one of those Celebrations of Life quite
common these days. By invitation! Not quite sure what that means, my mind into
“I wonder who’s not invited.” Being the eldest brother, my brain is busy.
Grateful for the invite, I also feel badly for those not so. Why? And then of
course the next thought, “How can I manage some appropriate communication with
all the others” (family of twelve now whittled down to nine)?
How might I speak plainly to his youngest
daughter and business partner? [ii] She knows who her dad liked and didn’t
like; π she’s grief stricken, loved her father dearly and lost her
mother just over three years ago. I’m guessing her dad may even have left a few
instructions, “Don’t bother with all that funeral crap; no need for a service”,
etc. etc. Not being a church girl nor well connected with her dad’s siblings
(most of them also not church goers), I hate to think of her vicariously living
with her dad’s agenda. She is a charming and articulate person, well
respected by the people she knows. She will be a great host to all the guests.
All this while Philip slips away into eternity.
A House Party
I arrived a few minutes late (nothing new to
my friends here in Calgary π), no
problem for this full house, a number of others right in behind me! The comfort
of conversation is a blessing, especially when you know hardly anybody. My
pretty niece ever so sweet and hospitable in this the home of her growing up.
Approximately half an hour into the hubbub, as agreed, she introduces me her
uncle, “dad’s oldest brother, and he will say a few things and a prayer.” It
was but a few extemporaneous family comments and then a Committal
Service similar to many I have done before.[iii] Fascinating to me
was the rapt attentiveness and looks of hospitality ranging from Philip’s
grandkids all the way through neighbors and longtime AA friends. The party
needed a Divine reference; ashes in the urn and spirit in presence of our
resurrected Lord Jesus.
New Life?
As many of my readers know, it does not
take long for ‘my thinker’ to kick in. It is now a few days since the goszgebat (Low
German for celebration). My reflections now include not only the holy
party but a delightful dinner with my younger siblings later that same
day. Already life is going on. We could not help but reflect on our
brother’s persona, his creative crude language and his declaration of life in
the fourth dimension. It is after some earlier research that I have come to
recognize a commonality between the two of us – probably why we enjoyed one
another, me the preacher and he the alcoholic (yes I also have some alcoholic
preacher friends). According to Google the spiritual 4D is a plane of existence
that allows us to understand the internal processes behind everything we
experience - life, death, dreams, insights, wakefulness, sleepiness. He claimed
this life-view never caring whether you agreed or disagreed with him.
Fascinating to me, his daughter refers to his shop - the place of his
fabrications and repairs – as his sanctuary! Once when he was telling me
about this all-inclusive spirituality, I responded casually that it sounds like
the Christian life empowered by the Holy Spirit. He agreed.
I could slip into theologizing, but no need.
Philosophizing? Well maybe a bit. I was oldest of the first third of our large
family; he was eldest of the second third – teenagers getting into trouble when
us older ones were in college or universities; and then there were the kjliene, the
youngest four who already had tired parents still reeling after the eight to
date! Philip and I were the eldest in each of our segments, and we understood
one another (kind of)! And then there was Joe, oldest of the youngest,
entrepreneur, world traveler, also a force to be contended with, deceased seven
years ago.
Thus spake Zarathustra. Oops, I
was going to stop theologizing! Zarathustra, the founder of Zoroastrianism, is
in my brain thanks to a once-upon-a-time college course. Now this preacher is
starting to sound intelligent! Once at one of those profound moments of
conversation when Philip and I were quite impressed with one another, he quips with childlike
clarity a memory verse learned when he was a kid in our Old Colony Sunday
School, “Ich bin nur klein. Mein hertz ist rein. Soll niemand darin
wohnen als Jesus alein.”
i “Death the Omnipresent,” https://www.jcfroomthoughts.blogspot.com/. May
31, 2022.
ii Also present was Philip's older daughter
from his first marriage.
iii Ministers Manual (Newton: Faith
and Life Press, 1983)