My cousin's funeral

I have heard pastor's refer to certain funerals as "good" ones (which insinuates there are also "bad" ones). It could have to do with the age of the deceased, how easy it is to find nice things to say about them, whether they were a believer or not, or perhaps the circumstances of death or some such thing.

I attended my cousin's funeral yesterday, and it was a good one! Not because she was old - she was a mere 63 years young - but this was one of those funerals where no one had to make anything up. I mean, it was story after story of people talking about my cousin Linda, and every single one of them reinforced to me that she was, in fact, just a genuinely good person. There was no, "Well, yeah, but I could tell you a few stories about the time..." No. It was so refreshing to know that the Linda I knew was the same Linda everyone else knew!

She was a beloved daughter, mother, sister, grandma, and friend who died too soon, had faced cancer three different times, but who will also leave an inspiring legacy for many years to come. She was self-less and giving and kind beyond measure. She always thought of others first. She "took herself lightly" and never (or rarely) complained. Her smile was quick and wide, her eyes bright with wonder, and her soul gentle and easy.

The service, while I'm sure no one wanted it to happen, was a testament to a woman of faith, hope and love. I sat there in the pew with my wife, daughter, and parents, and we all went back and forth between tears of sadness and tears of joy at having known her. Every now and then I would even find my head rising high... sort of a proud-ness, I suppose. She made me want to be a better person.

Linda planned her own funeral when she knew the end was near, and it was spectacularly done. The songs, the Scriptures, even the food afterward was splendid. I even liked the pastor's message! It was honest, genuine, funny in just the right parts, and I think Linda would have been pleased (actually, I'm sure she would have been).

It's weird... my dad's side of the family is pretty small. He had a twin sister, and their older brother Harold. The only cousins to me and my sister were Harold's kids - Linda, Steve and Lori. Steve passed away several years ago (also much too young), and I can't imagine how Lori must feel to be the only one left on that side. I suppose it's also ironic that our cousins were always the "nice" ones, and not many people would ever describe me or my sister that way. Go figure.

Anyway, we were never what I would call a "close" family, but I always felt more comfortable with these cousins than I did the ones on my mom's side of the family. I suppose maybe I could better relate to them. They were how I 'wanted' to be. That's how I felt at the funeral yesterday too.

Of course, you know me, I also sat there in my selfishness and wondered if anyone at all would show up to MY funeral. I'm sure people would be there to support my wife and kids, but I doubt mine will be a "good" funeral. It will be difficult for people to find kind things to say about me. But I digress...

My cousin and her entire family were/are awesome people. I'm glad we got to be there. My heart goes out to Linda's husband, kids, and grandchildren... and her sister. She will be missed. *I* will miss her. Though I couldn't tell you the last time we talked or saw one another, I loved reading her posts on Facebook, and felt connected in a strange way I suppose only family can understand.

---

For those who might be interested, and my own sake, HERE is the obituary.

Here is also a little something my daughter wrote on Facebook that is a pretty good description...

This probably belongs in a journal, a letter, or even on my blog but because she always mentions how much she loves my Facebook posts and reading things I write, I want to say something about my “Aunt” Linda Horwedel Miller, so bear with me here.

I don’t have a lot of specific memories of her but for as little as I probably actually saw her, she has an almost tangible presence in my memories of growing up in Illinois.

I think it is because she is the type of woman who radiates joy, happiness, hospitality, generosity, peace, patience, kindness, and genuine concern for everyone’s well-being. Everyone.

Her daughter Megan, who’s younger than me but someone who I look up to, has been keeping us updated as her mom transitions from this life to the next and the whole thing just makes me so angry, confused, heartbroken and overwhelmingly sad. She has always left such a positive impression on me that I can only imagine the impact she’s had on the people near near her and I just cannot fathom why things are going the way they’re going and why now? God knows, we cannot, and I have to try and be okay with that. These are selfish feelings as Linda is about to stand in God’s glory (there’s got to be a Mercy Me reference to fill in here...).

Despite my desire to crawl back into bed and ignore my to do list, today I will try to find something to laugh about because I feel like that’s what Linda would do. She is always telling funny little stories amongst stories of tragedy and sadness. She embraces the idea that humor seems to have a way of breaking down the walls we build up around ourselves so that we can more fully enjoy the presence of people around us and the connections we’re meant to have with others and I want to be more like that.

Linda, you are a stellar woman ❤️

Indeed...

One final thought: If I remember correctly, it was actually at her work retirement party that she found out the cancer had returned (the third time). While she never let it interfere with her life or slow her down, I'm pretty sure Linda would be the first to tell you... don't wait to do the things you want to do!