I cried my eyes out at the wake and some more at the funeral. This was unexpected, as I had been cool upon hearing the sad news. There were a few tears here and there as I drove home each day leading up to the funeral, but it was controllable. I suppose God allowed me to set those thoughts aside so that I could be functional on my job. But Thursday night, the sorrow grew deeper.
I missed much of the wake service. Apparently this is how the Sisters give a send off to one of their own: they do their own funeral service of sorts (there was a program with music, scripture, prayers) and folks were invited to come and tell their stories as it relates to the deceased one being honored. This is the time for eulogies. As one Sister put it: it's intimate. I'm sorry that I was not able to hear most of the stories.
The funeral was difficult as funerals go, but it was good. Three bishops were present, along with a smattering of Brothers and other priests. Religious from other communities, some from out of town, were present.
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Who was the Sister who died?
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