I have news. Another death, and another funeral. Well, actually 2 funerals. I need to insert a post after this about something else so I don't keep writing about this saddening subject. They always said death comes in three's... I guess it rings true (it's true at all of the facilities I've worked at too).
Louise Whitby, a good family friend, passed away. I got to go to her viewing, she looked lovely. I used to go over to her house with my mom and play dolls while my mom visited her and her husband Calvin. When I was really little, I'd stand up on my seat in church and wave at them, where ever they were sitting.
The other death was much closer to my heart. Tyler Tolbert. I took care of him for 2 years. I was there 2-3 nights a week, and in the summer I was able to spend a week or so at a time with him while his family went on a vacation. He loved music, and balloons, and bright colors. I sang to him all the time, and played the piano for him. In the summers we got to go on walks around the neighborhood. I'd sometimes take him up to my parents' house, he loved that. We'd take him bowling, or to movies. I didn't get to be at his viewing. Friday morning was his funeral. By some wonderful miracle, my Physiology professor cancelled the mandatory lab that week, so I got to go sing at his funeral.
There were beautiful flowers everywhere, many of which had balloons attached. There were also a lot of musical numbers. A most fitting tribute to him. Four of his other aids and I sang "I am a child of God." There was a reading of his life, in poetic form, then a song. Then Trevor (Tyler's younger brother) spoke. I've never heard a more moving talk. I was supposed to sing right after him, and I wasn't sure if I could because I was choking back tears. He mentioned that he would sing to Tyler, and change the lyrics so they would have Tyler's name in them. He mentioned that he heard the aids sing to him on multiple occasions. That little tid-bit made me blush... One day I was with Tyler, and thinking we were home alone, I was singing "Dancing Queen" to him at the top of my lungs, in a ridiculous fashion (hey, he was laughing a lot, so I was happy). Anyways, I heard Trevor come around the corner of the hallway and I felt like such a dork! I was betting Trevor was probably laughing as hard as Tyler as soon as he was out of earshot ;) I did make it through the song when it came our turn to sing. Corilyn spoke, another song was played, and then Nick (Tyler's Step-dad, a wonderful man for the whole family) gave a talk, he was a bit jealous that Tyler was not his own, his love for his family shone through every word. Bishop Ellis spoke as well, and that concluded the funeral.
I've never heard of someone who has effected so many lives in such a positive way before. When they found that Tyler was losing function, the doctors told Corilyn and Troy that, optimistically, Tyler might make it to 12 years old. He was 24 when he passed on. If nothing else, that is my biggest testimony of the power of a mothers love. (For my readers who don't know this family like I do: Troy Tolbert was killed in an Avalanche just before I started working for Corilyn. She found Nick a little later; I got to be there for the wedding. Their family has been through so much, but they've known so much good as well. I can't imagine being in their places right now, but I am so happy that I could be a part of their lives in that short time.)
Mourning is one of the deepest expressions of love. The only way to take sorrow out of death, is to take love out of life.
I also share an inspirational quote from President Packer (of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles): "The words death and happiness are not close companions in mortality, but in the eternal sense they are essential to one another. Death is a mechanism of rescue. Our fist parents left Eden lest they partake of the tree of life and live forever in their sins. The mortal death they brought upon themselves and upon us, is our journey home." Tyler is home. He's with his dad, walking tall, talking, and laughing. He's watching over his earthly family until they are called home. That quote is what I ended my talk with at my grandma's funeral, so I'll end with it today as well.
My next post will hopefully bring a happier message. Until then!
Mary
