Within the next three days, Grandpa’s body would be laid to rest, and everything about their family’s life would be forever changed. All they would have left of Grandpa were the memories they’d made with him over the years.
Mary Ruth and Ivan followed the doctor through the first set of double doors and then through another set. The doctor turned to them. “We have a little walk yet. We’ll be going down a couple of floors to where he is.”
Mary Ruth saw the bank of elevators and dreaded what was coming. They took the first one available, despite the busy foot traffic around them. Mary Ruth looked toward her feet as she rode the elevator down to their stop. When the doors opened, they were in front of a small nurses’ station. A vase with flowers stood welcoming them on the receptionist desk, but Mary Ruth barely took notice. One of the female staff members came over and led them to the room Willis was in.
Once at the doorway, the doctor expressed his condolences and apologized again that he couldn’t save Willis. Then he dismissed himself.
Mary Ruth stood beside Ivan for a moment, trying to let it all sink in, while the nurse waited with a somber expression. “You may go in and see your husband, Mrs. Lapp.”
Mary Ruth nodded. She reached out to her son with trembling hands and held on to his arm. “I’m so glad you’re here with me, Ivan. I never imagined how difficult this part of marriage was going to be.” Mary Ruth paused. “I know we need to do this, saying goodbye to your father and my dear, beloved husband, but it’s taking all my strength and determination.”
“I know, Mom, and we’ll do this together.” Ivan’s eyes filled with tears. He waited until she was ready, then walked alongside her into the intensely quiet room.
She clung to his arm the whole way, while the lump in her throat grew larger. The closer they got to his lifeless form lying on the cot, the slower Mary Ruth moved. This doesn’t seem real to me. If only it was a terrible dream. She wiped at the uncontrollable tears with the tissue she’d tucked inside her dress sleeve.
When they came up to his bed, Mary Ruth stared at Willis, then closed her eyes tightly as memories of the two of them on their wedding day began to flow, along with more tears. Their courting also came to her like it happened just yesterday, and she recalled so vividly how sweet his manner was and how often he’d made her laugh.
She also remembered with sadness the time Willis had said that he hoped when the good Lord decided to take them, they’d leave the earth together. It was a pleasant thought but apparently was not meant to be.
Mary Ruth placed her hand upon his sheet-covered shoulder and wept. The love of my life is gone, and it didn’t happen the way he had hoped. Oh, how am I going to manage without him?
Ivan stood with his mother as she weeped. It broke every bit of his heart to hear her cry like this. His mind went back to the beginning of the day. He had never thought for a moment that his father would be gone. Is it awful of me to wish that he was only sleeping? It seemed like Dad would simply wake up and things would be the same again. Ivan looked away from his father, swiping at his own tears. I will miss him so much. What a good role model he was for me and Rhoda. Too bad she’s not here to say her goodbyes with me and Mom. Ivan choked back a sob. He’d missed out on a lot when his sister left home. When they were children they used to be so close. What went wrong that she would just up and run off, never to be heard from again? What Rhoda did to Mom and Dad was unforgivable, yet they both forgave her.
Ivan clenched his fingers into his palms, wondering if he had ever truly forgiven his sister for running away. If my sister had stayed put in Strasburg and let Dad and Mom help raise her baby, maybe she would still be alive. She’d be right here in this room, grieving like me and helping Mom through this traumatic ordeal.
Ivan moved closer to his mother. “It will be all right, Mom. I’m here for you, and so is Lenore and the rest of our family. You can count on us for anything you need.”
Mom gave a brief nod, and Ivan’s river of tears increased as he listened to her speak to his father. “I will miss you so very much, Willis. You brought me such joy and made me feel so alive.”
Ivan let go of her to grab some tissues from a box on the nearby counter. He swallowed hard and struggled to speak. “I can’t believe he’s gone. Things just won’t be the same without him.”
Mom turned her head to look at Ivan. “I feel so numb.”
“I understand. This is hard for us, but I’m confident that Dad is in a better place.”
“Yes, he is. Your father is free from this life and at home with Jesus now.”
They stood and talked together about Dad, going over the final days and hours leading to his passing.
Mom leaned against Ivan, as though needing support. “As much as it hurts to say this, it was your daed’s time to go. The Lord was ready to receive him.” She dabbed at the tears beneath her eyes. “We’ll need to take care of the funeral arrangements and make sure it’s all done right.”
“Yes, and don’t worry, Mom, because Yvonne and I will take care of most of the details for you. I’m certain Lenore, Ben, and Peter will help out with a good many things that need to be done too.”
“And don’t forget about Sara. She’s part of our family as well.”
“You’re right, but she is not familiar with our Amish ways and funeral practices.”
“She will still want to help, and I’ll tell her what needs to be done. It will be a challenge to get through the next several days, but as long as we’re together, it will be easier.” A fleeting smile crossed her face. “I remember how I used to leave most of the decision-making up to your father. Now I’ve got to try to take things over. Makes me wonder how some families get through this time of loss without help.”
“Don’t worry. We’ll all be there for you.” He gave her arm a gentle squeeze. “When you’re ready to talk about it, we’ll need to discuss where you’re going to live.”
Mom didn’t say anything. She moved closer to the bed and reached out for Dad’s unmoving hand.
Now’s not the time or place to discuss this, Ivan thought. But after the funeral is over, I’ll talk to Mom again about moving in with me and Yvonne. She needs someone to look after her now that Dad is gone. And we are available to do it.
Back in the waiting room, Sara waited with Brad, Yvonne, and Lenore and her brothers—everyone looking so sad.
“I think I’ll get something to drink. Would either of you like anything to eat or drink?” Brad glanced in the direction of the cafeteria.
Sara shook her head.
“No thanks. I’m not thirsty or hungry right now.” Lenore’s tone was dull as she sat slumped in her chair.
“I’ll go with you.” Peter left his chair.
“Me too,” Ben said. “I could use something cold to drink.”
Sara sat in silence as Brad and her cousins walked across the carpeted floor out into the hallway and disappeared from view. The waiting area had gotten quieter, which suited Sara just fine. She thought about her grandfather and the times she’d spent with him. It was hard to accept that he was really gone. It would seem so strange going over to her grandparents’ house and Grandpa not being there to greet her with his contagious smile.
She squeezed her eyes shut, willing herself not to break down. If she gave way to the sob she kept valiantly pushed down, she might never stop crying. Grandma will need a lot of support from me and the rest of the family. I will try to help her through this the best way I can.
Lenore shifted in her chair, glancing toward the windows on the far side of the room. “Looks like it’s trying to rain out there.”
“I don’t care if it rains.” Sara looked toward the window and then back at Lenore. “It’s true, life does go on.”
“What do you mean?”
“Just that everyone is going through different things at the same time. We’ve received bad news today, while others around us may have gotten some good news.”
“You’re right, Sara,” Aunt Yvonn
e spoke up. She’d been awfully quiet up until now. Perhaps she’d been thinking about the grief her husband and mother-in-law were dealing with as they viewed Grandpa’s body.
Sara looked toward the double doors Grandma and Ivan had walked through a while ago. I don’t know how Grandma and Uncle Ivan could manage the strength to go see Grandpa. I’m not ready yet. I only want to remember him the way he was.
Brad came into view with his beverage and went over to the window. He stood there and stared out for a while, as though deep in thought. Sara saw the vapors rising from his coffee and smelled the robust aroma, but she had no desire for any. The tears behind Sara’s eyes nearly spilled forth as she thought about how Grandpa had always enjoyed a good cup of coffee. She remembered well seeing him looking out the living room window, watching the birds at their feeders, while slowly sipping his steaming brew. Grandpa. Oh Grandpa. I miss you already. If only we could have had more time to spend together.
Sara’s limp hands lay loosely together in her lap as she remembered something she should have done as soon as they received the news that Grandpa had been rushed to the hospital. “Oh no—I can’t believe I forgot to call Kenny.” Sara lifted her hands and placed them against her hot cheeks. “He needs to know about Grandpa’s passing.”
“Would you like me to make the call for you?” Brad asked, moving back across the room and taking the seat beside her.
Sara shook her head. “No, I should be the one to tell him.” She rose from her chair. “I’ll look for a more private spot to talk to my brother. He’s going to be shocked when I tell him the news.” Without waiting for Brad’s response, she hurried from the room.
Lenore stood up. “I need to stretch my legs.” She walked over to the windows and looked out at the strip of dark clouds in the sky. It had begun to rain, and she could see scattered thundershowers as well. She stood for several minutes, trying to come to grips with all that had occurred, but her brain felt so fuzzy it was hard to think clearly. Turning away from the windows, she walked back to her chair and sat down.
Lenore teared up when Mom reached over and clasped her hand. “Are you okay?”
“Yes. No. I’m not sure anything will ever be okay again. I’m worried about Grandma. What’s she going to do now that Grandpa is gone? They loved each other so much, and it’s going to be ever so hard for her to go on without him.”
“You’re right, it won’t be easy, but with all of our support, plus her strong faith in God, your grossmudder will make it.”
Lenore glanced over at a hospital worker as he held one of the double doors open. Two figures emerged.
“They’re back.” She rose to her feet.
Lenore’s mother stood up too, as did Brad.
Grandma came up to them, holding a crumpled tissue in one hand. “Grandpa is at rest, and I am confident that he is with the Lord.”
“Even seeing him lying there, with no breath passing between his lips, I’m still trying to get used to the idea that he is gone.” Dad’s form seemed weakened as his shoulders slumped.
“Would you like me to pull my van up to the door?” Brad asked, looking at Grandma.
Sniffling, she nodded. “Yes, that would be appreciated.”
Sara entered the room, and seeing Grandma, she pulled her into a hug. With tears rolling down her cheeks, she hugged Lenore’s dad too. “We’ll get through this together.”
Lenore rubbed her forehead in an area that had begun to pound. It was upsetting to see the sadness in her grandmother’s normally happy face. Poor Grandma. I wish I could say or do something to take away her pain.
Chapter 20
Strasburg
During Grandpa’s funeral service, held in his and Grandma’s home, Sara and the rest of her family sat on folding chairs a short distance from the very plain coffin made of poplar wood. She was told it had been constructed by a local Amish man who owned a woodshop and primarily made caskets for the Amish. It was wider at the shoulders than at the head and feet. The lid came to a peak. It had two parts: one that went across the lower body, and the other that had a two-part hinge so it could be folded open to allow viewing of the upper part of the deceased’s body. Sara’s cousin Ben had informed her that the Lancaster Amish cover the upper part of the coffin with a sheet during the funeral. The coffin had no handles or any veneer. It was simple in its construction and had no internal padding. The final resting place for the coffin would be in the local Amish cemetery.
This was Sara’s first experience attending an Amish funeral, and she’d asked all three of her cousins a good many questions beforehand so she might understand better what was happening. She’d learned that usually people in the community who died were buried three days later. Their bodies were taken to a funeral home for embalming and then brought to the family’s home.
Sara had also been told that family members, friends, and acquaintances would be able to view the body before the day of the funeral. When the first viewing took place, Grandpa’s body had been placed in his open coffin in the dining room. When Sara and Brad had arrived for that viewing, she was surprised to see that the room the casket was placed in had been stripped of all furniture and decorations. The second viewing would take place at the end of today’s funeral service.
Grandpa had been dressed in a white shirt, white vest, and white pants. No flowers or decorations of any kind softened the experience, and no eulogy was given, as in most English funerals or memorial services.
The first minister stood near the coffin. He spoke on the creation of the world, pointing out that Adam was created from dust and each person must return to dust. The minister read John 5:20–30, which spoke of the resurrection of the dead.
The second minister gave the main funeral sermon, and he read from 1 Corinthians 15, starting at verse 35 and continuing to the end, including the words, “O death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory?”
Very little was said about the deceased, because the Amish believe that God, not man, should be praised. They learned from an early age that their focus should be not so much on this world but on the world yet to come.
The reading of the obituary came at the end of the service, after the closing prayer and benediction. As in most Amish communities, the obituary included the deceased’s name, age, date of birth, date of death, and number of descendants.
Sara wished Brad could have preached a sermon during Grandpa’s funeral. At least then she would have understood everything being said. It had been difficult for her to listen to a sermon spoken in German, with only a few English words thrown in now and then. Sara still couldn’t accept that her precious grandfather was gone. It pained her to think that she hadn’t known him very long, and now there would be no more chances to spend time with him—at least not here on this earth.
I was cheated of spending more time with my mother too, Sara thought with regret. Mama was too young when she died.
She glanced to her left and saw her brother, Kenny, sitting on the other side of Brad. He too had been cheated out of time spent with Grandpa Lapp—he’d known his Amish grandparents for an even shorter time than Sara.
She thought of her stepfather, Dean, and how hard it had been on Kenny when his father died. She curled her fingers into her palms. Dean’s death had affected Sara as well—especially once she’d come to realize how much he had actually cared about her. So many regrets and so many unnecessary misunderstandings. Life certainly has its ups and downs, and each person must learn how to cope with them.
Sara shifted on her chair and swallowed hard to push down the sob rising in her throat. What’s Grandma going to do now without Grandpa? They were so close, and she never seemed to mind taking care of him.
Sara thought about the vows she’d exchanged with Brad on their wedding day: “For better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health.” If she were to become sick, Sara had no doubt that Brad would take care of her. And if her husband got sick or injured, she would be there for him too. A l
oving marriage, bound by the vows the wedding couple had made, required commitment through good times and bad. Sara’s grandparents were a fine example of that, and their legacy would live on.
Her gaze went to Lenore. On the outside, she seemed to be handling things well, but no doubt she was also hurting today, as were her brothers. Sara’s cousin was loving, kind, and strong in her faith, but she was also human. She had grown up spending a lot of time with her grandparents, so losing Grandpa could not be easy—for Lenore, Peter, or Ben. It had to be especially difficult for Uncle Ivan to lose his father. From what Sara had observed, he and Grandpa had a close father-son relationship.
Sara looked in Ivan’s direction. I wonder if he will insist on Grandma moving in with him and Yvonne. Or will Lenore continue to live here with Grandma? Since Jesse has begun courting Lenore, they might end up getting married. If so, maybe they’ll live with Grandma, unless they decide to get their own home somewhere in the area.
Someone sniffled. It didn’t take long to realize the noise came from Michelle. From the pained expression on the young woman’s face, Sara knew her friend—even though she was not a member of the Lapp family—grieved the loss of Grandpa as much as she and the other family members did.
Following the funeral service, four of Willis’s friends carried his body from the house to the black, horse-drawn hearse. They traveled in a solemn procession with other buggies to the graveyard where he would be buried. These same four friends, acting as pallbearers, had dug the grave beforehand.
At her husband’s gravesite, Mary Ruth, dressed in black just like the other mourners, stood between her two granddaughters. Her legs felt like they might buckle at any minute, and she was thankful Lenore and Sara had put their arms around her for support. Brad stood on the other side of Sara, and to the right of Lenore stood Ivan, Yvonne, Peter, and Benjamin. Other mourners, including Michelle and Ezekiel and all of his family, were nearby, along with many people from their church district. Because Willis had been a minister for a good many years, he would be missed by everyone in their church, as well as many in the surrounding communities.
The Healing Jar Page 12
