The Passing of Rick Wheeler

There was nothing I could do but sigh as I walked through the open doors of the funeral home.  Immediately after, a woman in the fog of mourners informed me that I was not the only one to do that.  Before I could reply, "Do what?", she said, "Everyone has walked in with a heavy sigh".

You didn't have to be current with the latest news to see that a hero was being buried today.  The firetrucks on both sides of the front entrance, and inside, the color guard standing with the deceased's wife and mother, made it evident that a brave firefighter had died in the line of duty.  The tragedy had occurred in the state of Washington, and it had taken a while to bring the fallen hero home to South Haven, Michigan.

The 10:00 to 12:00 visitation was the first of five stages planned to memorialize Rick Wheeler.  To give the family and close friends some privacy, a special luncheon will be held at their church before the actual memorial service, followed by the committal.  Finally, an open time of light refreshments will be offered, again at the church.  I'm writing this before attending the final stages because I am so overwhelmed by the sadness of it all.  Rick's mom and grandma are friends of mine.  Their pain has struck the very heart of our church.  Our whole community has felt the void that comes with the death of a home-town boy.

Looking at the ticking clock, I see that it is almost time to walk to church.  We've been asked to keep the parking lot spaces available for those who must drive.  Our congregation has really pulled together to organize the best use of time and space by signing up for the many responsibilities of a memorial of this size.  Not only are Rick and his family members deeply loved by this community of faith, but others in this town are also touched by his passing.  No one wants to see a mother lose her child.  No one wants to see a wife lose her husband.  We all feel the enormity of losing someone who was trying to keep others safe.  We want to make everything better, but we can't, so we'll do our best to help the family get through this day, and we'll pray for God to take the pain away.

Now that I'm home for the night, my mind is drawn back to the love that was shared all through the day.  "101 Hearts" seems appropriate.