You are Beautiful

Today I went to the funeral home to "view" my friend. What a terrible thought. And I guess I was crazy because I expected her to just be Amy, same ol' Amy, lying in the casket. But it wasn't her in that casket. Not even close. Seeing what she looked like made me hurt that much more because it made me realize how long it had been since I had really seen her. Was I a bad friend? Could I have helped her in some way? Probably not. But seeing her like that gave me such a violent reaction that I had to get up and walk away. After that I could not cry.

This was probably the strangest funeral viewing I have ever attended. I suppose it was the circumstances. Half the room in denial that she could take her own life and looking for other answers for her death. Still others so shocked that inappropriate thoughts and topics come out. Her parents' grief was almost unbearable to watch. Her oldest daughter has been wearing her jacket since she died and will only take it off to shower, still keeping it in the room with her. She says it smells like her mom.

I was told that my brief conversation with Amy in November was a "typical Amy experience" that most people in the room had in the past two years. She would not let anyone in. Her daughter told her grandfather that she just wanted her old mom back. This was before she died.

After a while, I was able to approach the casket, kneel down and share a moment with her. I know that she now has what she could never quite get in this life -- peace.

The memorial card at the funeral home had a poem on it that really held true. It is called "God's Garden Must Be Beautiful."

God looked around the garden, and
found an empty space.
He looked down upon the earth, and
saw your tired face.
He put his arms around you, and lifted
you to rest.
God's garden must be beautiful, for he
only takes the best.

He knew that you were weary, and he
knew you were in pain.
He knew that you would never, be
well on earth again.
He saw the roads were getting rough,
and the hills were hard to climb.
So he closed your weary eyelids, and
whispered peace be thine.

You are already missed, Amy.