I went to another funeral this past Monday. This funeral was for a lovely 88-year-old woman, Judy, whom I had first met about 25 years ago at church. I remember the first time I ever met her. Doug and I struggled each week to get all 6 of us to church on Sunday for 9 am services. There was crying, yelling, outfit debacles, food mishaps, and just general overall unhappiness leading up to church. And right before we exited the car in the church parking lot, there was a quick, “And you all better behave,” moment before we walked into the church like the most perfect Episcopalian family.

We all knew it was a house of cards though. Doug and I essentially held our breath, praying there wouldn’t be a melt down or an embarrassing moment that would bring attention to our family during the hour-long mass. But Judy knew. She was a mother of four as well, although her children were grown by then. Every week she said something to us to make us feel welcomed—it was as if she knew we weren’t breathing. She’s the reason we continued to come to church. In some indirect way, she let us know everything was going to be ok, and we absolutely loved her for that.

What I learned during her funeral is that people don’t talk about what you did for yourself at a funeral, they talk about what you did for them. Someday a eulogy will be said for all of us—what will they say? Judy’s funeral could have been a week-long event given all that she did for others. Keep that in mind at work and at home, especially this week. Judy recognized our struggle and helped in her own loving but nonintrusive way. We can, too. Look around, there are so many opportunities right in front of us.

Let’s GO! WE GOT THIS!

BETH