Showing Up

Another sudden death occurs in my life, and again I find myself asking why. Again I am reminded how quickly life can be gone, and how sometimes we just don't expect it. Sometimes it scares me to think how sudden death could come, and I think back on the occasions of my life when people have passed in surprise, and how we have dealt with it. I think about how people reacted, and how tragedies like these have seemed to shape our views and shape how we deal and heal. Another friend my age has died, this time to sudden sickness instead of the car accident we dealt with as seniors, the suicide we dealt with a year later, and the heart attack just months ago. This time I ask myself if I should show up to this one. I worry about who I might run into if I do, or what I would say if I ran into those more torn up about it than I am. But then I remember that I of all people should know that it's not about words and it's not about image. It's just about showing up. It's just about the silent respect shown in taking the time to come and support those who are hurting in a time of loss. It's just about being there.

When my dad took my mom to the hospital that last time, and I found out a few hours later that she would die within the next day or so, I was in too much of a state of covered-up shock to call people. I was afraid to ask my freinds to come and hold my hand because I had always played the strong one, the one that didn't need any support. I could stand alone. Right? Much to my surprise, within an hour my pastor and my best friend at the time, Katie, were both standing beside me in the hallway of the hospital. It was very late at night, and I didn't expect anyone to come. I later went home with Katie and tried to sleep alone through the night (without much success). The next day was one of the hardest of my life. What stands out to me the most, though, is remembering who showed up.

By ten the next morning, about ten of my friends had elected to skip out on church and come sit next to me in the hospital instead. Some sat for an hour, and some sat for two days. My best friend was supposed to leave for Georgia that morning, and I told her that she could go, but she knew me and knew I needed her, and she showed up. My other best friend was on the other end of the state working at a camp, and couldn't get away, but after hours of us crying on the phone, she announced to her supervisor that she was leaving. And a few hours later, she showed up. My best friend from middle school who never came through for me showed up later that afternoon. A friend who was still grieving the death of her father two weeks earlier also showed up. They all came to sit with me in silence. Words were not needed; their presense was. Whether it was two in the afternoon or two in the morning, people just kept showing up. That was what mattered, and that is what I remember.

So when I sit and debate about this funeral tomorrow, I remember how important it was to me that people showed up. I always want to be the person that shows up, and knows that words are not necessary. I pray that I will always have the kind of friends that just show up, because it seems I have been blessed thus far. Death sucks, and it's not an easy thing, and it doesn't always make sense. But we don't have to play strong, and we don't have to stand alone. It's ok to reach for a hand to hold. I'm gonna show up to this memorial service, and I'm gonna hold somebody's hand. Because to me, that's what it's all about. I'll be there, Holly. We will all be there, holding each other's hands, as you stand and watch, holding the hand of Jesus. Rest in peace.