Posted Tuesday, February 8, 2005 at 12:05 p.m.
(My mother’s name, Illa, is pronounced with a long “I,” as “EYE-la.” — Charlie)
Saturday, February 5, 2005
Two of Joe’s friends spent the night at our house Friday, so they could accompany us at the funeral on Saturday.
A fair number of family and friends were present. There were tears shed near Mom’s open casket and laughter near the photo collages, as people reminisced and celebrated Mom’s life. Joy was expressed between loved ones not seen in a long time, tempered with sorrow that the meeting had to be for such an occasion as this.
My niece had assembled two collages of photos. The first collage included pictures of only Mom; the photos in the second collage showed her holding babies or posing with other family members. They were very well done and provided a good stimulus for conversation that celebrated her life.
There was a large spread of flowers on the casket from the children, a smaller spread from the grandchildren and a tiny spread from the great-grandchildren. To the left and right were several flowers and plants sent by friends and relatives, including the ladies at the Glen, where Mom lived at the end, and a lovely spread (pictured here) from the company for whom my eldest brother works.
Wendi, I and Joe sat in the front pew for the funeral, with Wendi on the far end, in her wheelchair. Justin Amundson played the piano.
The half-hour service included three hymns: “The Old Rugged Cross,” “Be Still My Soul,” and “I’ll Fly Away,” which was sung at the end of the service. Pastor Dave Fremstad read Joe’s poem which he wrote at school on Wednesday (the day Mom died); we told Dave about it on Thursday, and he pulled the text from The Oo Kingdom online:
All things live, all things die.
There is never truly an end, only a new beginning.
The line between life and death is a thin one,
but also one of sorrow and pain.
Everyone crosses the line though at some point.
After the main service, we rode in the procession from the church to Milton Lawns Memorial Park for the committal service, which was held at the chapel there. The weather was sunny and mild, about 50°. I commented that the warmth of Mom’s heart was bearing itself out in the weather.
Dave spoke briefly about the resurrection at the last day, relating the story of Lazarus being raised from the dead.
This service was the most difficult for Wendi, Joe and me; the finality of it was too much for any of us to bear.
About 30 people attended the luncheon afterward, back at the church. There were ham sandwiches, Au Gratin potatoes, vegetables with dip, green beans, pickles, Kool-Aid, coffee and chocolate cake. We left at about 2 p.m.
My sister suggested to Wendi that we go to the mall or someplace where we could watch people carrying on with their lives. We stopped at the house to drop off the flowers and stuff; then all five of us went to the Janesville Mall and walked around. While there, we bought drinks at Orange Julius and then sodas at McSnack, the tiny McDonald’s place in the mall. After that, we went to Best Buy, where Joe used his birthday gift card (and we pitched in some money) to buy Donkey Konga, the Gamecube game that had brought so much fun to Joe’s birthday party. Joe also bought some other small items. We spent the rest of the day at home, playing video games. It was a sort of celebration of Mom’s life.
(used in the memorial leaflet)
The LORD is my shepherd;
I shall not want.
He maketh me to lie down in green pastures:
he leadeth me beside the still waters.
He restoreth my soul:
he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness
for his name’s sake.
Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,
I will fear no evil:
for thou art with me;
thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.
Thou preparest a table before me
in the presence of mine enemies:
thou anointest my head with oil;
my cup runneth over.
Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me
all the days of my life:
and I will dwell in the house of the LORD forever.
(taken from the memorial leaflet)