Words are kind of an interesting thing. There are wrong words and right words for every situation. And when the right words are given at the right time for the right situation, something magical happens.
As Isaac and I went the through the process of celebrating his father's life, attending his funeral and his graveside service, I found that words were quite important to the whole process.
There were sweet words given in his obituary, dictating an overview of his life on this earth. More profound words were given at his funeral in prayer, song, and formal speeches. At his graveside service, words were offered in an air of finality, dedicating his body and its burial place to the Lord.
In the midst of all of these words, it was fascinating to understand that none of them could really do it justice. How can any arrangement of words articulate the heartache, peace, and resolution felt? No words could accurately describe the Spirit that permeated each individual as they attended Papa Olive's funeral, or the ultimate acceptance and faith felt by each of his family members.
I found that others shared in my opinion. More than any condolence given, I heard "I just don't know what to say" or "I wish I knew what to say to you." Everyone was searching for the "right words," understanding that there really aren't any to give.
I would love to write a blog post about what I experienced at my Father-in-Law's funeral. I'd love to write about how much I miss him, and how much I wish he could be there next to my husband when he blesses our little boy. I'd love to write about the peace that has poured into my heart throughout this whole experience and how exceptional the Gospel is, especially when dealing with such a misunderstood, incomprehensible event like death.
But ultimately, I find that there aren't words that could do it justice.
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| 2 weeks before he passed away, he got to feel his grandson kick. :) |
