by Rev. Eric Folkerth

What gracious kindness I feel in my heart toward you all, dear friends.

I cannot express my gratitude to you all for the cards, calls, and presence that you’ve shown my family these past few weeks. It’s been such a journey of joy and sorrow as we continue to grieve the death of my mother.

You continue to embody what it means to “be the church” in your compassionate and caring ways.

My mother was similarly compassionate toward the grieving and the suffering. She literally taught me everything I know about sitting with the suffering and grief of others.

In a letter she sent to a grieving friend, after the early death of the friend’s husband, my Mom said some words that have been with me throughout these past few weeks.

The friend’s husband had died far too young of cancer…leaving her to raise two small boys on her own. So Mom wrote her a card. We found the draft among her things after Mom’s death.

Here is what Mom wrote to that friend, 15 years ago:

Dear Vicki, Caleb and Ethan,

Dick and I were so saddened to hear of Mark‘s death. Even though Mark had suffered a long time, it is still hard to let it go. Losing a loved one spouse or parent is not like other losses. It leaves a hole in your heart which time gradually makes bearable.

You three took such good care of him during his illness and when Dick and I saw Mark at church events, it was obvious how proud he was of you boys and how much he loved all three of you.

It’s OK to be sad. I remember the first time I traveled to my hometown after my mother passed away; when I walked into the bathroom and saw the shower cap sitting in its usual place I burst into tears. As Eric says, “tears are nothing to be ashamed of. They show you care.”

But there will also be times of joy when you feel Mark‘s presence with you – – – in a beautiful sunset, a birthday party, an accomplishment, a family gathering. He’ll be there.

My mother slightly misquoted me here.

What I say to everyone about tears and grief. What I tend to tell folks is: “Don’t be ashamed of your tears when your loved ones die…if you could get through it without crying, it would be weird.”

I mean, it’s almost the same point, but the change in emphasis reflects the differences between Mom and I.

I know that even during this time of our own family grief that many of you have been wrestling with your own losses of friends and family members. Our neighborhood has seen great recent losses too. I am deeply moved by the compassion you are showing to each other, and to neighbors, during this time as well.

When I think of my mother’s comfort to Vicki in her grief, I think often of the last hopeful section…that our loved ones always stay with us through the events of our lives and who we will yet become. I hope, when you are in your own moments of grief, that those words can speak to you as well.

Frederick Buechner, the inspiring writer and preacher, died this week in mid 90s. Like my mother, he was a person who embraced the sufferings of his life and learned to move through them. Mom became compassionate as she overcame the early death of her own mother. Buechner struggled with the suicide of his own father.

Both of these —Mom and Buechner— teach me a great deal about what it’s like to move through great sorrow and find new strength and life on the other side. As Buechner said about hope and resurrection:

“What's lost is nothing to what's found, and all the death that ever was, set next to life, would scarcely fill a cup.”

Thanks be to God for our hope in the resurrection.

Eric Folkerth