logo-image

A Certain Future

Shackelford Funeral Directors • Dec 29, 2016

She sits as close to him as circumstances will allow and, after 60 years, they are still holding hands. If she has not taken his, he reaches for hers.  If ever two people were one, they are those people.  But his health has declined significantly over the past few months, and his mind has already begun to wander.  If life continues as it has, this could well be their last Christmas together.

Another woman begins walking down the center aisle as the congregation sings, a note clutched in her hand. Her husband follows, moving slowly; the effort required is great but so is his determination.  She sits down on the front pew and he settles in behind her, his hand on her shoulder, his head bowed in anguish.

It is Christmas day and I am struggling to stay awake during our church service, not because the minister isn’t a good speaker but because I was up until 2:00 AM wrapping up the wrapping. And because I’m a Shackelford.  We get still.  We fall asleep.  It’s just what we do. My struggle leads my eyes and mind to move about the room and I spy the first couple I mentioned.  He sits in a chair which is easier on him than a pew.  She sits on the pew to avoid completely blocking the aisle.  And they constantly hold hands.  I wonder how she must feel knowing what their future holds.

The second wife came tearfully pleading for strength and peace. Her husband is battling cancer, a battle that he appears to be losing.  As the minister read her prepared statement her husband bowed his head and wept at her pain . . . as did most everyone else in the auditorium.

For a day so filled with joy and childish excitement there were those who were hurting, grieving over losses suffered or losses yet to be. And now we approach the new year, a time of possibilities and anticipation, bringing hope and second chances.  Perhaps a new baby is on the way or a wedding is being planned.  There may be a new job or a promotion or even retirement waiting for us as the calendar changes and the cycle begins again.  Or maybe we just want to escape the old year in hopes that the next one will be not only new but also improved.  For many of us it is a time of renewed energy and enthusiasm when we resolve to be better and do better—and convince ourselves that this time it will stick. But for some the new year is an unwelcomed guest for the change it holds is one they never wanted.  If they had the power to stop Time in its tracks they would do so in a heartbeat for Time has become their enemy.

As we plan and prepare for 2017 with eager anticipation, please be aware of those around us who are making preparations of a different sort. We may not have the power to give them a happy ending to their story, but we can offer strength and comfort and support as they walk the very difficult path upon which they have been placed.  As you face the coming year with all of its promise, please remember to make time for those who face it filled with fear.  And while you’re at it, remember that we never know what our future holds, so make the most of every moment spent with someone you love—and be grateful it was yours to enjoy.

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.
By Lisa Thomas 14 Feb, 2024
We didn’t meet under the best of circumstances—I was the funeral director and he was the husband grieving the imminent death of his wife.
More Posts
Share by: