UNTIL WE MEET AGAIN

Dad, Ana, Joseph and I will remember the date of mum’s funeral as long as we live, 28 July 2003. It was Joseph’s birthday. “Could this be a plain coincidence, or God let it be for some purpose?” I whispered this question to myself several times during that day. There was always a special bond between mum and Joseph. Mother’s birth-giving pain never ceased. Her heart was not at peace when her son had to learn hard lessons of life, when he fought to find his way in life, when his own life was at threat; she was with him all the way. As long as alive she was giving a part of herself to those through whom her life was to be continued.

The day was scorching hot. Ana looked for symbolism in this, “Life offered very little shade to mum, she constantly lived in a scorching heat.” I couldn’t agree more with Ana. Mum was a war child born on 24 September 1941 in Bosnia. Her early childhood was spent most of the time hiding in the woods from different armies that wouldn’t spare anyone. On one occasion her parents forgot to take her with them into hiding, and wondered if they would find her alive on their return.

Mum’s parents refused to send her to school for her brothers had priority. She learned to read and write and the basics of counting herself. She went to school on her own; impressed the village teacher and insisted to persuade the parents to let her go to school. Her teenage years were spent in hard labor on Croatian farms to earn money, not for herself but to support the family. She got married and worked hard together with dad to support us three children. When there was hope of better days for the family, the war started in the former Yugoslavia. It directly affected my parents in different ways. When that was over mum started fighting with her illness. In the hardest moments as she was struggling with death she found hope in God and a promise of a better world.

I was standing at the gate of the village graveyard this time not in my dream but in reality and not on my own. I was supported by a large funeral party: my own family, dad, Ana, Joseph with their families, mum’s two sisters and three brothers with their families, other relatives, numerous friends and neighbors. It was encouraging to see four ladies from Stuttgart who had come as a representation of the churches in Stuttgart. There were church members, mum’s sisters and brothers in Christ, who with songs of hope reminded all present of the promises God made to mortal men. Pastor Ivan Brechermacher spoke from the Bible on the theme of mum’s last words ‘Be ready’.

Mum’s grave was on a small hill in the graveyard. By the open grave the Pastor read the words of the promise of resurrection and at the end the words were read:

“..for dust you are

and to dust you will return.” (Genesis 3:19, NIV)

These words and the sound of clusters of ground falling onto the lowered coffin made me cry deeply. This is the destiny of humanity infected by sin from the very birth. The line of death we cannot cross. Just in hope to say, “Until we meet again”. It is our choice to mourn or to dance on the edge.

Date: 2015-12-24; view: 969