My parents have subscribed to Reader’s Digest for approximately
20 years. I have always enjoyed reading
the small magazine. It may be “uncool”,
like I’ve heard people say about “CBS Sunday Morning”, but I love the stories
and have garnered useful information.
I’ve lived on my own for over 17 years, but my mom
still gives me her “used” Reader’s Digests.
I have a stack of them on the bottom shelf of my bedside table. I throw that and a copy of Guideposts in my
gym bag and read them while I ride the stationary bike. As a side-note, I also keep a couple copies
of the Guideposts in my car to read while stuck in traffic to keep me calm.
One Reader’s Digest story I read stuck with me. I found the same article on the National
Public Radio Website. It’s titled “Always Go To The Funeral” by
Deirdre Sullivan. Deirdre talks about
how her father always made her siblings go to viewings and funerals when they
were kids. He told them people would
remember they had made the effort to go pay their respects. And it’s just the right thing to do.
The week before this past Christmas, I learned that
the brother of one of my childhood classmates had died. He was 46.
My parents are still friends with his father and his father’s second
wife. I had not seen Eric, my classmate,
since his mother died around 10 years ago, and I attended that viewing.
My parents mentioned that the viewing and funeral were
scheduled for Dec. 27. I had the week
off but was “busy” running errands and getting ready for a quick trip to
Nashville, Tennessee with my niece. I
thought about going, but decided I wouldn’t since I hadn’t seen him in forever,
and I sent a sympathy card with my parents to give to him.
When the day came, all I could think about was that
article. The phrase, “Always Go To The
Funeral” kept running through my head. I
wasn’t that busy, was I? But I had already sent the card, and he would
think it was weird that I showed up after he already had my card. I drove off to run another errand, but eventually
turned the car around, changed into more presentable clothes, and set out to
the viewing.
It didn’t take that long to get there. And it was a nice, sunny day for a
drive. My parents were surprised to see
me. I’m sure Eric was as well. I didn’t stay long but we talked for a bit
and I also saw his wife and one of his daughters, his father and stepmother.
It is called, "The ministry of presence."
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