Wed May 7 08:25 EDT 1997 Laid to rest This is the account of my mother-in-law's funeral. I got word on Wednesday that mom had died and rushed home to make preparations to travel on Thursday to New Jersey. While not unexpected, the impact of the news is nonetheless traumatizing. As I drove home that day, I made out the road through my tears. I choked out the hardest thing I think I have ever had to say in a prayer, saying "thank you, Lord, for Your mercy." And then I cried for my own loss and the loss of Joy, her father, her sisters, and her family and friends. Dad (Tom) later told us that Millie ate some apple sauce for lunch, but not all of it. Dad went downstairs to eat lunch with Eileen, Millie's sister who had come to help. Dad felt that he just wanted to be with Millie so he took the left-over apple sauce back upstairs. She ate a couple of more spoonfuls and indicated she wanted no more. They sat there for a while in silence and then Tom noticed that Millie was "staring into heaven" and her breathing became labored. He climbed into bed alongside her and held her in his arms. She gave a short breath, then paused a while, gave another short breath, and she was gone. Faith and Hope (sisters 1 and 2) arrived Thursday morning and helped Dad make arrangements for clothing and casket. We arrived Thursday night. The rest of the family arrived Friday. On Friday, the hearse arrived before noon at the church to set up for viewing hours. The family was called over for a private time around the casket. We honored mom's memory and again wept uncontrollably over our loss. Not for the last time. We managed composure during viewing hours, thanks to our private time beforehand. We reminisced with others and in fact were able to provide some measure of comfort to others. (I re-met the Shemps; next-door neighbors who have lived there since I was a boy. I apologized on behalf of myself and my brothers, asking for forgivness for causing them grief 32 years ago. Mr. Shemp just smiled. I blamed my brothers since I was only 5 when we left Butler. ;-) ) Millie touched a lot of people. We were grateful for those who prepared food for the family on Friday, and on Saturday after the funeral. When Saturday arrived, Joy felt a strong burden to have a particular song sung at the funeral which was to occur in just a few hours. She asked Dad's permission and Tom Scheuermann and I called around to find the accompaniment tape to "Thank You [for giving to the Lord]". We found it. I practiced in the car on the way back from the store and again back at the church with Miranda, who signed the words as I sung. Outside, it was pouring rain, just like on my wedding day almost 18 years ago in May. We wondered if the graveside service would be performed in the rain. The family did a good job of keeping spirits up in the in-between times but the clock kept pace and we attended many reality checks with every event. The funeral went very well. I didn't dare look at any of the family members during my song, and when I saw Miranda out of the corner of my eye breaking down at the end of the song, I shut my eyes to finish. Charity, Hope's daughter, also sang the original words to the tune of "It is Well With My Soul" and she made it through (thanks to her college training, perhaps). Dad Crawford led the entire service. Rev. Dallas Mucci, District Superintendent of the NY Metro district, delivered the message. (David Trauffer was there. He was my father's assistant pastor at Butler in the early 60's. I asked his forgiveness for shaking the ladder from which he was painting 32 years ago. He said that he was still working on it. He said he was glad to see how I turned out and I offered that it was his application of the paint brush to my posterior that set me on the straight and narrow.) Follwing the funeral, we drove nearly an hour to Middletown, NY where my mother-in-law was interred. We passed by the house where the three daughters (Faith, Hope, and Joy) grew up in Warwick, NY. The rain had abated and all we had were cloudy, but rainless, skies. There was a very short committal service and I could see that up until then Dad was doing his job as Rev. Thomas Crawford as best he could. (I was asked how Dad was doing on Friday, and I responded, "house of bricks".) But the final words of committal were yet another reality check. The casket was lowered into the grave as the family stood at a short distance, each husband hold his wife. Dad stood up near the grave until the lid was lowered into the grave to seal the casket in its cement box. We then went back to our cars to go home. At the dinner prepared for the family after the funeral, I met with Dallas Mucci and his wife. (She had some interesting things to say about my father, with whom she went to college. I apologized to the New York District on behalf of myself and my brothers. ;-) ) Dad had instructed his daughters to go through mom's things and to take what they wanted with a few exceptions that he noted for his own rememberances. The sisters were reluctant to do so but realized that it was for Dad's benefit and to receive rememberances of their own, which Dad wanted them to have. It was a very difficult duty to perform. The sisters could not accomplish it all in the weekend, so they will return sometime later to finish the job. (On a lighter note, I found a wig in a closet that mom used during the wig craze of the seventies. I brought it to my balding brother-in-law, Tom Scheuermann and declared that mom wanted him to have it. He put it on and walked into the bedroom where the sisters were putting mom's clothes away. He inspired a much-needed belly laugh from the women.) Several people have urged Dad to come spend a little time with us in Pepperell. To help ensure this, I left Joy in New Jersey to help Hope do more of the packing that needs to be done. Dad brought Joy home on Tuesday and will stay with us for a short while. Dad has a deep valley to cross. We're not trying to take that away from him because he HAS to cross it himself. However, we are trying to ease him into it by not leaving him alone all at once. All of this happened so fast. Millie's first pains came at the beginning of April and by the end of the month, she was gone. For my part, I have not understood before the depths of sorrow that I have recently experienced, and I shudder to think of it going deeper for Joy, Faith, and Hope, and deeper still for Dad Crawford. At times, it has been unbearable and uncontrollable. At other times, relief. I am thankful for the hope we have of seeing her again. I pictured her entrance into glory and the host that greeted her with celebration. Heaven is most certainly richer. Dad told me that Mom stored up so many riches in heaven that Jesus had to take her, and I interjected "before she broke the bank!" We laughed and cried at the same time and hugged each other for some time. Mark , Mark Metcalfe ,d88b.d88b, O love that will not let me go \_0__, (508) 446-6451 88888888888 I rest my weary soul in Thee M `Y8888888Y' I give Thee back the life I owe .|\. metcalfe@cadence.com `Y888Y' That in Thine ocean depths its Cadence Design Systems, Inc. `Y' flow may richer, fuller be.