logo-image

A Stranger’s Gift

Shackelford Funeral Directors • Sep 07, 2016

Rarely ever do I find myself in a funeral procession for someone I don’t know. Generally, if I’m going to the cemetery for the committal service, the person who has died was a family member or close friend . . . meaning I’m more focused on the loss than on my surroundings.  But recently, for reasons I won’t get into, I had that opportunity.

It was a small procession by some standards, four vehicles plus the hearse and the police escort. We did pick up another escort car as we passed under a traffic light, so he brought up the rear after assuring we were all safely through the intersection.  Our journey took us down a residential street, through a stop sign and two red lights, and into the midst of the road construction on Pickwick.  And all along the way I watched as people reacted to our presence.

We only met one car on College Street and it immediately pulled over and waited as we passed. There was a lawn service working in one of the yards and they stopped their equipment as we approached, waiting patiently . . . quietly . . . as we drove by.  At the intersections traffic from all directions came to a halt as we slowly moved through first one light, then the next.  Even the construction equipment on Pickwick ceased operation and a dump truck pulled over.

I know we often say the world doesn’t stop for Death, but there are moments when it really does, and this was one of those moments. Everyone we approached briefly hit the pause button on life so they could pay their respects to a person they had never met and a family in mourning.

I wondered if the family noticed. I wondered if they realized the significance of this one small act of kindness on the part of so many strangers.  In a world that always seems to be in a hurry, simply stopping for that brief moment is a gift that many might overlook but one that speaks volumes, for it says that someone cares.  Someone knows your pain, even if they don’t know you.

 

By Lisa Thomas 24 Apr, 2024
It was 3:00 in the morning when my cell phone rang. Which is rarely ever a good thing. Maybe that’s why I bolted upright in the bed while simultaneously grabbing for the offending piece of technology.
By Lisa Thomas 17 Apr, 2024
I have a confession to make. There are days when I’ll set the air conditioning on 65 and get the house cold enough to hang meat . . . and then light the fireplace.
By Lisa Thomas 10 Apr, 2024
If you’re a semi-regular reader, then you know I’ve been enduring that right of passage known as “The Packing of Parental Possessions”. For the last several months, the focus has been on cleaning out the apartment they occupied for 30 years . . .
By Lisa Thomas 04 Apr, 2024
When John Jacobs died of pancreatic cancer on October 29, 2005, his family was devastated. The New York defense attorney believed in staying connected to those he cherished the most, something he managed to accomplish by calling them three or four times a day on his beloved Motorola T720 cell phone . . .
By Lisa Thomas 28 Mar, 2024
There’s a place I’m privileged to visit on occasion—a civilized wilderness of sorts—where very few people intrude and my desire for hermitism (not to be confused with hermetism which is a philosophical or religious system based on the teaching of Hermes Trismegistus . . . mine just means I like being left alone) is fulfilled.
By Lisa Thomas 20 Mar, 2024
I am a lover of words and occasionally manage to put them together in a half-way decent manner. Ask me to speak to you spontaneously . . . off the cuff . . . with no preparation . . . and my brain freezes.
By Lisa Thomas 14 Mar, 2024
In a bookcase in the office in Savannah, you’ll find all kinds of books, mostly on grief (which makes perfect sense given that it’s an office in a funeral home).
By Lisa Thomas 07 Mar, 2024
When my daughter was in second grade the music program at her school disappeared. I don’t remember if it was a lack of personnel or a lack of funding or a lack of personnel caused by a lack of funding . . .
By Lisa Thomas 29 Feb, 2024
On November 21st of 2021, I wrote the blog “The Ultimate Reminder” about a gentleman I’d literally known all my life . . . about his acknowledgment that his circle of older family members and friends was rapidly dwindling . . . about how hard it was to watch them leave.
By Lisa Thomas 22 Feb, 2024
Recently local and national news outlets picked up the story of Pauline Pusser’s exhumation, turning it into front page news and lead stories.
More Posts
Share by: