May the Lord watch between me and thee...

The weather was nothing short of miserable. It seemed like the skies echoed the tone of the day; a funeral. It felt as if the elements joined in on the mourning.

Thunder boomed ominously while rain came down in sheets, hammering the populace as they went about their lives. Umbrellas popped up like mushrooms, shielding the churchgoers until they found shelter within the sanctuary.

Somber organ music greeted the attendees. The vestibule was illuminated with candles; flickering every so often and elongating shadows as it went. People broke off from the rank and file lines to immediately greet friends or loved ones spotted in the pews. Hugs, tight smiles and warm pats on the back seemed to be the order of things. But this was okay. There was only so much one can do at a funeral.

The floral arrangements were beautiful; it looked like lilies, carnations and roses spontaneously exploded in a brilliant kaleidoscope of hues. It seemed like the vibrancy of the blooms mirrored the person everyone was coming to celebrate. A large poster board photo of a Black woman resided between the floral sprays. Her hair was a subdued reddish brown, but expertly done in loose curls that cascaded past her ears. Bright brown eyes accented with red eyeshadow and equally vivid lipstick accentuated the warm smile she possessed. Anyone that knew her always thought of her as a social butterfly who could draw attention just by walking in the room. But if you truly got to know her, you knew how much of a gem she was.

The organ music faded away as a stooped older gent walked up to the pulpit. Adjusting his glasses, he spoke in a quavery tone.

"Th-thank you all for attending on what is a most assuredly difficult homegoing service. W-we will depart from the usual program and ask.." he then paused to adjust his spectacles. 

"Miss Freeman, to come up and speak about her dear Aunt Dierdre. Thank you."

He then tottered away to see a woman wearing a black trench coat and heeled boots heading towards him. They nodded at one another, his hand gently patting her shoulder. 

"Go on."

She stepped up to the pulpit and swept her large hat from her head. Her eyes were red from crying, but she put on the bravest face she could muster.

She looked around the sanctuary, full to the point of standing room only. The silence was punctuated with a few constrained sobs and the odd sniffle.

"Well," she began. "For those that don't know me, I'm Cherese Freeman; niece to Dierdre. I asked the good reverend if I could talk today instead of the normal repent tact, and he agreed. So, let's get to it because I don't wanna hold ya long."

There was a slight chuckle that rippled through the crowd: famous last words from a Baptist pulpit. 

"Those that knew Auntie knew the type of person she was; kind, outgoing, always willing to lend a hand if she didn't know you. However,  there was a side few saw. A side that wasn't with the foolishness and would let you know quickly. Why do I say this? Because she would let us all have it for crying like this at her home going."

People looked around, slightly bemused at the statement.  However the first few rows nodded and murmured their agreement. 

Cherese nodded and continued. 

"She would have read us like the Bible for sitting here crying and feeling sorry like this. She would honestly want us to celebrate her life. Dierdre did so much with the time she had and shared her life, love and joy with us all. She might have left us, but we still have the memories she made with us all."

There were a few 'amens' in the crowd as she pressed on. 

"There was something I saw online a few days ago from our Nigerian brethren on how they have funerals. There were smiles, singing, dancing...just celebrating a life well lived. 

I like that. I truly do."

She then paused and leaned forward a little on the pulpit. 

"Do you know why some people cry when children are born?"

There were a few shrugged shoulders and mumbles that followed.

"Well, I'll tell y'all. When a child is born, some of us cry because we don't know what life or the world has in store for them. It's that rightful fear of the unknown. But by the same token, why do we laugh when loved ones pass? Because they lived a long life and have done so much with so many people. It feels like a crime to not honor them that way."

The rain slowed up considerably outside. Clouds that looked angry and ominous broke apart to show rays of sun peeking through the darkness.

Cherese smiled, wiping tears away that threatened to fall anew. 

"See? Evidently someone up there agrees with me. Besides, we know where she is. She's in a better place than us right now. Celebrate her, don't mourn her. Now, may we all stand?"

The crowd stood en masse. 

"May the Lord watch between me and thee, while we're absent from one another. Be safe, love one another, and be the best person you can be. God bless."

(Okay, the story is done...but this was a way for me to cope with the loss of a family member. I'm still crying while writing...but yeah.)