a going away party

When Kiddo was quite young, I was talking with him one day about a funeral.  While we didn't attend, Kiddo had lots of questions about why there were so many people at church when it wasn't Sunday morning.  I explained that someone had gone to heaven, and their friends and family were having a going away party.

Last week we had a going away party for my father-in-law. 

He had fought an aggressive form of cancer last winter, and, we thought, had conquered it.  But just before Christmas, we learned that it had returned, and that this time there wasn't a whole lot the doctors could do.  Even feeling as badly as he did, he never complained and was devoted to caring for his wife, who was still living at home and in the later stages of Alzheimer's (she has now moved to the home of one of Hubby's brothers).  And he was ready to go Home, when the time came.

In some ways, the service really did feel more like a going away party than a funeral.  Yes, he is dearly missed, but there is also joy in knowing where he has gone, and that in time, we will have the opportunity to see him again.  There is joy in being together as a family and sharing memories and stories.  The "party" really did celebrate his life and the legacy he left behind.  It was joyful and full of laughter and jokes and funny stories, just like he was.  It was rich with the hymns that he loved to sing (a cappella).  And it was full of the family he loved.  His granddaughters played the piano and shared memories.  His grandsons read scripture and created a slide show.  His sons and daughter shared stories and led the singing.  And the whole family (minus some grandsons and a sister-in-law who claimed tone-deafness) sang a hymn about the home he created for his family...

There is beauty all around, When there's love at home;

There is joy in every sound, When there's love at home;

Peace and plenty here abide, Smiling sweet on every side.

Time doth softly, sweetly glide, When there's love at home.

  

It was a good going away party.

I've been thinking a lot about heaven lately, even before Hubby's dad passed away.  My sister-in-law picked up the book “Heaven is for Real” a while ago, and I got a chance to skim through it several weeks back.  I didn't know quite what to think of it at first (and sometimes I still don't), but the heaven that was described in that book is a heaven I can get excited about.  There are lots of cool stories in the book (Jesus' cousin, John, is really nice, and the angels will sing "Jesus Loves Me" with you but not "We Will Rock You"), but I think one of the parts of the book that moved me the most was when Colton, the 4-year-old "author," described meeting his younger sister whom he had never met on earth - she had died in utero.  When I miscarried twins four (or so) years ago, I was comforted by the thought that I would get to see them some day.  Colton's story added strength to that hope.  If heaven is like what Colton saw, then I have two kids there who are waiting for me to come meet them.  I have two kids who are adopted by God, who get to climb in Jesus' lap and do homework with him (Colton says Jesus' homework is FUN).  I have two kids who have a better understanding of how much God loves us than I do.  I have two kids who, like Colton, know a God who is real.  Tangible.  Approachable.  I have two kids who know the beauty and joy of heaven.  If heaven is like what Colton saw, my father-in-law is having a wonderful time - singing the "Hallelujah Chorus" (his favorite) with the heavenly hosts and playing with two grandkids he never met here on earth.