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Remembrances and Reunions |
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Saturday, 23 June 2007 |
Yesterday, I went to the funeral for Mike Shelkin’s niece at Good Shepherd. Today I went to the funeral for Doug Carter’s daughter and his niece at Aldersgate. One of the ministers at Aldersgate called it an “unwanted” day, and noted that the community of friends and family was gathered to “find comfort in one another’s words and silence.” The Pastor recognized what so many were feeling when he noted that people who came to pay their respects were “frightened,” and that we wanted to help. He described the loss as a hole in the heart. He suggested that the rawness of the hole would heal a bit with time, and that other parents have said the sharpness of the pain had eventually abated, but that the hole never closed.
It’s difficult to go to funerals like this. Kids should be joyous, focusing on the future, not going to funerals for classmates. Yet both services were well attended by students from local schools. These are kids who have watched the events of September 11th take neighbors and shake the tarmac on 395. They have attended candlelight vigil at West Potomac High School to remember the students at Virginia Tech. They are generally gorgeous kids, goofy kids, awkward kids, not too unlike we were, 30 years ago. I saw a number of girls who looked so much like Lydia and Renée that I did a double-take. These Northern Virginia kids did not look like the kids in Oklahoma where my family lived for the past 2 years, nor the kids in Belgium where we lived a few years before that. These kids looked like they belonged to this community.
The pain on the faces of the grieving families processing to their pews in the churches drew like emotions from the congregations at the services. Parents grieved alongside the parents of Sarah, Lydia and Renée, imagining how searing it must feel to lose a child. Others must have been reminded of their own parents’ love, and wondered at how unimaginable it would have been for them to live through that Hell. Mr. Petkoff, the grandfather of both Lydia and Sarah, spoke plainly: “Richard and Susan, you have both been blessed with other children. I don’t want to lose another grandchild.”
Teenagers are prickly humans. Their striving for independence frustrates parents’ attempts to protect and guide them. Those annoyances are a natural part of growing up, and serve a purpose. When Lydia’s father said that Lydia had just graduated from West Potomac, and had been looking forward to orientation before her time at VCU would begin, my eyes burned. It is time for my own 18 year-old daughter to leave home and to go to VCU; we are ready for that. But we are not ready for her to leave this earth. The Petkoffs, Carters and Shelkins are no more ready than I am.
What Gives Life Value
Like everyone else in the church, I wondered what it all means. I wondered what connects me to Doug Carter and to Mike Shelkin. If I’d asked myself that question 30 years ago, I would have thought that very little connected me to those boys. Today, however, I see that it is the most important things in life that connect me to our classmates. Our parents made our homes in this Fort Hunt community. Our teachers provided us with an excellent education. We grew up with the same friends around us. We are parents now, living in the same community. Those are the things that give life meaning and value---the people in our lives, and our relationships with them.
Small Town America
Is Fort Hunt a suburban community? Maybe. But it’s also a small town. Its small town qualities are clearer every time my family moves back to the area. Mine is a military family, and a moving van has come to our house 21 times in the 24 years that my husband and I have been married. We have been stationed here three times. As I sat in the churches during these two funerals, I saw parents from my teenager’s preschool, neighbors from my own elementary school days, schoolmates of my teenage daughters from Fort Hunt Elementary and from West Potomac High School. I saw Mr. Vennell from the Hollin Hall Variety Store. I saw people I’d met years ago when my kids played in the Fort Hunt Softball league, people from Girl Scouts, people from the street where I grew up. This is not an impersonal, faceless place. It is a town with citizens who care about one another.
Fort Hunt is a small town, its people have big hearts. The teenagers here are part of a cohesive community, and they look like it. If we were to ask them about that, they might see this community is one that is full of cliques and divisions. I might have seen it that way myself, 30 years ago. Whether we are teenagers on the brink of life at its fullest, middle-aged people wondering where the years have gone, or grandparents reflecting on the best and worst of life, the most important things in life are the people and the relationships that we have with them. Funerals are an essential ritual for recognizing the wonder of life and the beauty that one person can bring to many lives. Reunions are a rare opportunity for us to reflect on our common bonds and to savor and renew our relationships. We shouldn’t miss the chances to address the most important part of life.
---Celia
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