Saying Goodbye

I sit in a chair that is pushed against the wall adjacent to the window. Outside, a fresh flurry of snowflakes dances toward the ground, hiding the earth beneath a covering of pure white. Nature does not stop. She does not laugh, nor does she grieve. She simply goes on, unaware of what is happening on the other side of that window's glass.

Nine of us surround the bedside of my aunt, keeping watch over her as she sleeps. We don't expect her to wake up. Cancer has sunk in its teeth and torn a gaping hole in our family.

Her two daughters sit on either side of the bed, one holding her right hand, the other lovingly caressing the back of her left hand. I listen to the gentle words of comfort my cousin murmurs. And then, barely audible: "You can go home now."

My aunt and uncle's youth pastor and a close friend step into the room to have a word of prayer with the family. We hold hands in a circle around the bed and listen to these men of God lift up prayers on our behalf. Then my uncle begins to pray. He speaks words of praise to a great and sovereign God before he chokes on the words, "I entrust her to You, Lord." Through tears, he thanks God for the life they have shared.

We sit together in that room for the next several hours, sharing memories and strengthening each other. Some of the moments bring laughter; plenty of others bring tears. Worship songs play softly on my uncle's laptop, and sometimes we hum or sing along.

I realize we are not mourning as those who have no hope. Ours is the hope of heaven, and I envision my aunt taking my grandma's hand as they sit together at the feet of Jesus.

My uncle holds her hand now, and tells her how much he loves her - such a picture of true love and devotion. In a moment like this I understand how incredibly blessed I am that these people are my family.

My mom steps closer to the bed and reaches down to hug my aunt. I try not to intrude on this last moment of intimacy between sisters, but I hear my mom telling her to rest, and that she loves her.

I have never been in a room with someone nearing their last moments of life. I don't know if my aunt is even aware of my presence, but I step forward, too. "I love you," is all I know to say. But it's enough.

My aunt is a beautiful woman whose absence on this earth will leave an emptiness in many hearts. She was devoted to her children and grandchildren. She served alongside her husband in his pastoral ministry for so many years. She loved and cared for her family. And she loved the Lord with all her heart, soul, mind, and strength. We trust in God's goodness and cling to the promise that we will be reunited with her in heaven someday.

We love you, Aunt Nancy, and we look forward to the day we'll join you and Grandma at Jesus' feet. To borrow the words from a song by Watermark, "You'll just have heaven before we do."