Quite by accident we learned that my uncle was gravely ill. We believe it was a God-thing. Sometimes events occur that, to our human minds, are coincidental, when in fact, they had been divinely arranged.
My sister was waiting her turn at a dentist appointment and struck up a conversation with a gal she was casually acquainted with. Somehow the chat wound its way around to our uncle and she mentioned he was not well. It happened that this person was related in some way to our uncle, who had been married to my mom’s sister. My aunt passed away. A few years later, my uncle became friends with a widow and eventually married her, moving away from our area. We saw him at funerals and weddings, sent cards at Christmas but seldom really connected. You know how that goes.
So when my sister found out “by accident” he was ill, we kicked it in. My brother and his wife visited our uncle, we sent cards, called him and supported him during his remaining time on earth. What a blessing that was for us, a gift of time to show him we cared. He passed away recently and we all attended his funeral in Appleton.
The day before the funeral, the Fox Valley and surrounding area was the target of a number of tornadoes.
My husband and I picked up my sister and her husband and we were to meet my other sister and brother at the church, along with their spouses.
As we approached Appleton, our mouths hung open in shocking disbelief, as we witnessed the devastation first-hand. Trees were uprooted, their roots gaping open sideways, grotesque and unnatural.
So many trees were down that it seemed there were more that were affected than were standing straight up.
Closer to the city the damage was more evident as huge electrical poles were cracked in half, or leaning precariously.
Most of the traffic lights were not working; we heard later, 90 percent of the city was without current. Manual stop signs had been erected and four-way-stops were controlling traffic at the intersections. Most people were considerate, slowing down and being courteous to each other.
Getting to the church, we were met by a representative who informed us because of the power outage, the funeral was moved to their sister church across town! It took us close to two hours to eventually reach our destination, a good hour past when we should have gotten there. Good thing we had started out early.
The funeral was a celebration of my uncle’s life. He was a man of God, and had accepted the free gift of saving grace and mercy and everlasting life through the death and resurrection of Jesus, and we knew he had gone home, already greeting my mom and dad, his young grandson, who had died at an early age, and his first precious wife, my aunt.
We connected with cousins we hadn’t seen in ages, and my husband and I ate lunch together with my sisters and their husbands and my brother and his wife. It was all really sweet and heartwarming, and such a comfort to the grieving widow. My uncle positively touched many lives while on this earth.
On the way home we were in awe of the strength of the storms that had raged the previous night, seeing destruction at every turn in the road. The reality of the storm hits full force when it is viewed in person rather than on TV. All along, we saw people pitching in, helping their neighbor clear debris and cut massive tree trunks, pulling branches to the end of their homes to be picked up by the street crew. I remember hearing Fred Rogers of “Mr. Rogers’ Neighborhood,” recalling his mother telling him, “Look for the helpers, Fred. Whenever there’s trouble, people come out to help each other.” It’s true. So true.
Later that evening after milking, we attended an appreciation dinner put on by one of our dairy feed suppliers. We had sent in reservations well ahead and it happened to fall on the night of the day we were gone to the funeral. We decided to attend anyway; we were a little stretched for time, with chores and milking putting us behind a bit, but we made it.
As we were enjoying our supper, we were joined by a fellow farmer. It struck us on the way home how simple us farmers are. Not simple-headed, but simple in the way we take pleasure in the little things, how we work together with our families, farming the land and tending to each other.
The guy we were talking with just had the blessings of twin grandchildren join their family. His eyes shone as he mentioned the little ones, pointing them out to us there that night. He also spoke about his son working up in the silo and the dangers that are posed there. His concern and unease was evident — the what if’s? We could totally relate.
All-in-all the day was exhausting but heartwarming. Time well spent, celebrating life, witnessing the goodness in people and truly, just simply loving each other.
(“Be devoted to one another in brotherly love. Honor one another above yourselves. Rejoice with those who rejoice; mourn with those who mourn.” Romans 12:10, 15)
Categories
